Obstacles
by IsisIvy
Summary: Bella Swan, still grieving over her mother's sudden death, travels back to her hometown of Forks, Washington to deliver the news to her alcoholic father. Along the way she meets Edward Cullen, a recovering addict, and finds comfort in the most unlikely place. Rated M for lemons/sensitive material. AH, Angst/Romance.
1. Destination

_AN: Hello to my lovely Readers,_

 _I have been playing around with this idea in my head and I hope my fans of TSIPWR will give this a chance as well. It is a bit different then what I am used to writing which makes it all the more exciting._

 _I do want to forewarn that this story will be extremely angsty and will deal with heavy topics such as death, sex and substance abuse. I hope this doesn't stray you away as I hope to write it in the most honorable way that I can._

 _This first chapter is Beta'd by yours truly. If it goes the way I want it to, I am hoping to get a beta here soon. I do, however, feel that I have grown a lot since TSIPWR and am not anticipating the same amount of mistakes that I did in that story, however I am still human!_

 _So, without further ado, please enjoy the first chapter!_

* * *

My name is Bella.

Short for Isabella.

Full name: Isabella Marie Swan.

It was a rainy Friday the thirteenth in Forks, Washington. My mother was nine months pregnant with her first and only child, and as prepared as she could be to bring me into this world. _There wasn't anything in my life I had been more ready for_ , she told me despite the fact that she was battling demons within herself.

My mother, Renee, grew up in one of those white-picket fence homes you see in TV shows. The ones with a whole family plus a golden retriever or two. She made it through High School with one of the highest GPA's and was provided a full ride to UW for Political Science. She was the captain of the cheerleading team and the debate team. She volunteered on her weekends off and tutored underprivileged kids after school.

She was one of those people you see and second guess what you are doing with your life.

Her future was aligned and planned accordingly. Go to college, get a good paying job, fall in love and marry someone as equally smart and talented, have lots of babies and grow old together...

However, as planned as she was, she could have never planned for my father.

He came twisting and turning into her life like a tornado, one that would inevitably be the downfall of her future - one she planned so methodically for. All those hours and days spent preparing for her adult life - gone in the snap of a finger by none other than Charlie Swan.

She was sure it was that head over heels, can't breathe, can't think, can't function in love.

 _Whatever that meant._

My parents married quickly after they met my mother's freshman year at UW. They married at the end of her sophomore year and soon after that was when she dropped out of college. A few months later, she was staring down at her at home pregnancy test at a small, but visible, plus sign.

And that's where we circle back to that rainy September 13th, 1990. My mother said she was prepared... But no matter how many hours she spent reciting the labor plan to not only herself but to my father... He knew how to screw it up. _I know a short cut_ , he said to her on the way to hospital as he turned off of the highway despite my mothers screaming.

If two words could be a motto, then those would be my fathers - _short cut_.

Charlie "Short cut" Swan is what they call him.

While his intentions may have been... _decent_... my father's short cuts typically bit him in the ass by the end of the night. So, it was no surprise that on that Friday the 13th he had ran out of gas and found himself delivering me from my mother in the back seat of their 1982 Toyota Corolla. The road they had pulled over on? Isabella Lane. The song playing on the radio while my mother screamed at him for being such a fucking idiot? _Witch Queen of New Orleans_ by Redbone, a song about a witch named Marie.

Yeah, I didn't say they were creative in the name department, but the irony of it was that no matter how prepared they thought they were for my birth - they didn't even think of what to call me. So instead, they settled for the street they delivered me on and the song playing on the radio.

Once the police arrived with the ambulance to take us to the hospital, my father had stumbled over his own two feet and into one of the policemen. It didn't take much for them to smell the whiskey on his breath and then soon following after that... The unsubscribed oxy in his car. But, my father had an ace up his sleeve. My father was a cop. My father was the _Chief_. How could that have happened? When he was just a deputy, he hid is addiction easily. The Chief at the time had been a long time family friend and when he retired, passed the badge to my father. Once Charlie was the Chief, it was easier for him to get away with things. No one would pull over the his cruiser, even if he was driving down the wrong lane. But his deputies decided it was best to take him to the station so he could sober up, avoid anyone at the hospital getting suspicious.

Oh - I forgot to mention - I was born to addicts. My father is an alcoholic. And the pills? Well, he enjoyed the high but they were my mothers. My mom swears she didn't touch a pill bottle until after I was born but I had my doubts. _Not that it mattered much anymore..._

I wish I could tell you that when my father didn't get to spend the first few days of my life with me that he would have dried up... But if you have ever loved someone who was addicted to the bottle, you know that their love for you will always come second to a few drops of their poison.

That was just the first of many unfortunate stories of my life as a child. My parents loved me unconditionally, especially my mother. We were so close when I was younger, even through the induced haze of her pills. But no matter how close you are, being the child of an addict is like an ongoing battle between your love for your parent and the hate of who they are.

I spent many times fending for myself, making my own breakfast, packing my own lunch, singing myself to sleep as my parents danced to their music in the living room high on whatever it was they could get their hands on. I also spent times cleaning after them as they passed out in a pile of their own vomit. I even spent time cleaning up blood from the carpet from one of their heated arguments in which my mother slapped my father hard that one of his back molars popped right out.

But there were goods times - times where it got so bad that my parents hit a wall and vowed they would quit the alcohol, pills and even the cocaine they picked up. And they would be attentive, caring and nurturing. My father would cook us breakfast in our run down home on the edge of the small town of Forks as my mother would sing off key to whatever was playing on our radio, twirling me in a circle as we danced in the middle of our kitchen.

And my parents had an intimacy when they were clean that I had never seen before. When the high was there - it was all that mattered. But take that away, they relied on each other. There was a sense of trust and was probably the only redeeming quality in their marriage.

But despite how good it was, they never lasted.

Again, if you know what it is like to love an addict - it doesn't take much to send them back over the edge.

For my parents, it could have been a number of things. A bad day at work, traffic on the turnpike, bills piling up... I still wished every time it was good, it would stay good - even though I knew better.

My wish eventually came true - at least for my mother. But it took me almost dying for it to happen. I was ten years old when I contracted the flu from school. When I told them I didn't feel good, they provided me over the counter medication as they were too high to drive me to the doctors. But it wasn't until my mother walked in on me in my bed, ghostly pale and nearly non-responsive that kicked her into gear to get me to the hospital.

 _I should have died._ That's what the doctors told her.

I will never forget the scream she made when they said it. The agony in her bloodshot, oxy induced eyes as she ran to me, pleading for my forgiveness and promising she will never touch another pill again.

My mother was true on her words. When we left the hospital, she sent me to my Grandparents in Phoenix as she checked into rehab. She had wanted my father to come along, but he hadn't been seen for days. She was there for four months before she felt comfortable enough to leave. And when I saw her again - I saw a new woman. My mother had always been beautiful, but the pills made her eyes look black, her skin sickly pale against her brown-red hair.

But after her rehab, she had grown a tan - freckles appeared that I had never known to exist peeking around her nose as her hazel eyes were bright. Not one sign of her addiction.

And she stayed clean several years following. My father tried to follow suit, my near death experience rendering him clean for a few weeks. But he fell off the wagon when he was stripped of his Chief badge at the station. He screwed up, left the city of Forks one night and hit a semi. The cops in the next town breathalyzed him and that was all it took. He was put on leave while an investigation went through but ultimately he lost his job. He went back to his old ways, but instead of having to stop because he had to function at work - he had no job to stop for.

He was constantly high, a bottle of whiskey never far as he moved around the house in a drunken stupor. My mother had to get another job to keep up with the bills and eventually it became too much for her when my father showed no signs of stopping.

So, in a desperate attempt to get me out of that life and her away from the chances of a relapse - she left him.

She fled us to Phoenix, Arizona where my Grandparents lived.

And that started a new chapter of our life together. She enrolled me into a new school, she went back to college to complete her bachelors and found herself a decent paying job where she could afford to move us out of my grandparents basement and into our own home. And she was there through everything - my first middle school dance, my first day of High School, my angsty teenage years, my first relationship and then my first heartbreak.

" _It's you and me, kid._ " She would tell me. And it was true. It was her and I taking on the world.

And it was as if everything in the past was non-existent. As if life started in Phoenix.

But it didn't stay just her and I. Eventually, my mother met Phil. She ran into him, and I mean literally ran into him, one morning on the way to dropping me off to school. She wasn't paying attention, didn't see the light turn red and rear ended the back of his truck. I remember watching her ramble as she apologized to him, throwing her insurance information and promising she will pay for the damage, though our car seemed to get the brunt of it. And while she rambled on and on, Phil was completely enamored with her. I always thought back to that time they first met, the look in his eyes as if he didn't even care that she hit his vehicle.

They ended up married exactly a year after they met.

Phil was a great guy, coach of the High School varsity team and played in a minor league team in Phoenix. He was polar opposite then what we were used to - he was warm, carefree, full of life and never took a sip of alcohol as he came from a family of addicts. And he treated me like a daughter. He cheered me on at every sport I attempted and failed, came to any extra curricular events I was apart of and lifted me up when I felt less of myself. He moved me into my first College dorm room and kissed my forehead to tell me how proud he was of me and that he loved me more than anything. He was the father I never had.

As for my real father? I received a birthday card every year after we left Forks, the same message scrawled in the middle. _Happy Birthday, B. Miss you. Love always, Dad._ This was the only contact we had. This was the only communication I received to know that at least he was still alive. He made no other attempt and neither did I. And I preferred it this way. Charlie would always be Charlie. Cutting edges for short cuts, drinking bottles dry and taking medication to numb himself of the life he had created. My life had moved on. My life was Phoenix. My life was finishing my degree in English and becoming a writer. My life was my mother...

Until a few days ago.

xx

I sat alone at the marble counter, my thumb tapping alongside my coffee mug as my other hand was preoccupied twirling brown hair around my pointer finger. I looked down to my black coffee as it grew cold from neglect and I stilled my thumb. I could hear the chattering of the crowd outside the kitchen, my fingers immediately untwisting my hair, afraid someone would be able to read what I was thinking. Mom used to say that was my _tell_... Tapping my thumb, twirling my hair, the look on my face deep in thought... That was how she knew something was wrong and apparently I had been doing it as long as she could remember.

" _I know you are upset, Isabella._ " My mothers voice filtered from a memory, one that made me frown at my coffee. " _You're twirling your hair... And you are tapping your thumb... Is that the beat to Smells Like Teen Spirit?_ "

That one made me laugh. I was an angsty teen, there was no doubt about that.

In the midst of my memory, I had missed the fact that Phil had walked into the room, rummaging through the fridge muttering something about a _goddamn fruit tray_.

I took in Phil's appearance, the black slacks he wore loose on the sides even when accompanied by his leather belt. It was clear he had lost weight and I wasn't sure if it was due to exercise or depression.

"Gram?" I asked as he turned, setting the untouched fruit tray on the marble counter in front of me. He looked at me with a annoyed expression and I offered him a slight smile of empathy in return.

Gram had been sticking around the house for awhile since mom passed, helping with the funeral arrangements and last minute touch ups before people began strolling in from out of town. While she meant well, my Grandmother was persistent on making sure everything went according to plan, even if she wasn't the one in charge. Her attitude made it difficult to complete even the simplest tasks.

"How are you doing, kiddo?" Phil asked, his gaze lingering a bit longer on mine and I knew he was inspecting the dark rings under my eyes.

"I'm fine." I said, looking down to my cold cup of coffee. "I'm just ready for this to be over with."

"Yeah..." He was quiet for a moment, but I knew he was contemplating on saying something - but too afraid to cross a line. "You hungry?" He offered the unopened fruit tray and I quickly shook my head as my stomach twisted in knots. "When's the last time you ate?"

"This morning." I lied.

"Slept?" He challenged.

"A few hours last night." _Two to be exact_. "How about you?"

"Enough to get me by." He shrugged, but I knew he was in the same boat as I was. I could hear him walking around upstairs in the early hours of the morning, plagued with the unanswered questions that were forcing me awake as well. "She would have hated this." A sad chuckle left his lips as he fingered the plastic over the assorted fruit in front of him.

I was silent, absorbing his words as I thought of her critiquing the somber cloud over the house today.

"She would have wanted us to celebrate her, not mourn for her. This whole thing is so... Morbid." He continued, filling in the silence.

But I had to smile at his words because he couldn't have been more right. My mother was always the center of attention, always wanted the spotlight and danced whenever she could. She had even told me on her fortieth birthday that when she goes, she wants us to have a waxing moon celebration of her life. Complete with crystals, spell books and Stevie Nicks playing in the background.

 _The celebration of my soul leaving my body and becoming one with the universe._

This was also during the time she had discovered Wicca and heavily practiced it for several weeks afterwards. Our house smelled like sage for months.

"I remember that. The smell stuck to the furniture." His face contorted into disgust as he thought about it. I hadn't even realized I said anything out loud... _Shit, I am so tired._

"Phil, the fruit tray! Now, please!" My grandmother had popped around the corner, her voice like nails on a chalk board as she snapped her fingers at him before bolting out of sight again.

"I think she's trying to kill me, I know it." He rubbed at his temples, his voice scratchy and worn.

"Hopefully it is quick and painless." I said the words through a chuckle that turned into an almost strangled sob as I realized what I was saying. I cleared my throat, staring down at my cup of coffee as my own reflection through it mocked me. Luckily, I kept my tears at back because I didn't think I could cry anymore than I already have.

"I'm going to go back out there..." He grabbed the tray, walking around the island as he hesitated next to me. "Please take care of yourself, Bella."

"You too." I shot back, knowing that he was neglecting his health just as much as I was.

xx

"Thank you all for joining us today. I know Renee is smiling down at us, feeling the love and compassion in this room." Father Marcus began as he stood at the podium in the front of the living room. Gram sat next to me, holding my hand tightly as she held a tissue in the other, bringing it up occasionally to dab at her eyes. She offered me her tissue but I shook my head - I didn't know if I could cry anymore than I had in the past forty eight hours. "I think we can all agree that whenever Renee walked into a room, people took notice. The light of her soul carried with her everyday and people naturally gravitated towards her. Her warm energy is what drew people. That and her quick tongue of hers."

People began chuckling through sniffles, but I stayed motionless. He continued with his speech, speaking of what my mother had accomplished in her life - what she had created here in Phoenix. Finishing school, working up to a higher position at her job, volunteering for charities with Phil in their down time. He continued on for a few more minutes but after awhile, I felt myself tuning out. If it wasn't for Gram's grip on me, I am sure I would have had no recollection of his speech at all. I noticed a pause and turned to look up as Father Marcus stopped, gripping his podium as he stared at the paper in front of him. He cleared his throat before continuing.

"Death is never easy. It's hard for us to process it - to overcome it. Especially deaths that are not expected. But it is Matthew 5:4 that says _'Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.'_ " Gram swallowed a strangle sob as she squeezed my hand. I winced from the pain and the passage. "Renee had her demons, her sins she indulged in just as much as any of us. But she had put that life behind her, had created something beautiful in her marriage and her family." _It's just too bad her demons caught up to her._

"While she rejoices with God, she leaves behind pieces for us to put together. Her mother, her husband and her daughter." I squirmed in my seat as I felt eyes on me, Gram reaching up to kiss the back of my hand. "If there is anything that Renee was most proud of, it was of her daughter - Isabella Swan. I remember her volunteering at our Church, packing school bags for children in need. She would always praise her daughter, speak of her in such high regards to the children in hopes it inspires them to reach for the stars."

 _I felt sick._

"We come here today to not only celebrate Renee's life, but to let who she left behind know that we are here - and we will help you along the way." Father Marcus looked at me as I felt my stomach flip a dozen times. "Let's end this with a passage of healing, _For this is what the LORD says: "I will extend peace to her like a river, and the wealth of nations like a flooding stream; you will nurse and be carried on her arm and dandled on her knees. As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you; and you will be comforted over Jerusalem."_

Gram laced our fingers together, sobs erupting from her chest and Phil reached over and draped his arm along my shoulder. I couldn't help but feel suffocated... I knew they were trying to comfort me, to comfort each other but I just couldn't do it. I glanced around the room, noticing eyes on us as Father Marcus continue his passage. I felt the bile in my stomach, my throat burning as my heart began to race. _I can't do it. I can't do it. I can't do it._ I stood quickly in the middle of the prayer and headed to the hallway, flying up the stairs as quickly as I could to reach the bathroom. I shut the door behind me as I let out a loud gasp of air, my knees buckling but my mind numbing the pain of the tile against my bones.

 _I can't breathe..._

My chest ached with a pain that seared so deeply that I didn't know how to extinguish it. My mind flashed to the images of my mother on the floor of her bedroom, the bottle of pills in her hand as foam coated her lips...

 _Mom! Mom, wake up! Oh my God, wake up! Phil, call 911! Mom... Mom, you gotta open your eyes, please open your eyes..._

"Please open your eyes." I cried against the tiles of the floor, my body shivering at the memory as I tried to perform CPR on a corpse. "Fuck!" I screamed, sitting upright against the tub as I kicked the hamper across from me. I rubbed my eyes fiercely, trying to scrub the memory of that night from my brain but it was as if it was on a constant replay and I had no off switch.

Here is where I typically threw more things, had a full on melt down complete with shattering something nearby and screaming at the top of my lungs. Here is where I repeated the same things over and over again...

 _It's not fair... Why were you so selfish? I hate you... Why did you leave me?_

The questions would always be left unanswered, my brain trying to conjure up her response to everything I said but even after just a few days I found it difficult to hear her voice...

 _I know it's not fair. I know I was being selfish. I love you. I won't ever leave you._

I turned on my knees and climbed into the safety of the tub, pulling the curtain to shield me in my misery. Curled up in the fetal position, my eyes felt like a ton of weights. I tried to keep myself awake, but the pressure of this day, the lack of sleep, the stress and anxiety intertwining with the sadness I felt in my heart forced me into a reckless slumber.

xx

The weeks following the funeral were rough. I had spiraled deeper into depression, concerning my family and friends who tried to reach out for help. But I was too far gone - too far into my head to even think of climbing out of the hole I was nearly buried in. My lack of sleep was causing me to go stir-crazy, but when I did get rest I was invaded with nightmares of the memories of finding my mother on the bathroom floor. I hate my brain for making me relive it every night and I swore off sleep as much as could, only getting enough to be able to function. _If you call this functioning_... Phil voiced his concern early on, but I knew he was handling the loss in a different way. He threw himself into his work and even picked up another small league Baseball team to join. This was how he coped and I applauded him for it. If only I were that strong.

My best friend Angela tried to pull me out of bed but we only got as far as the stairs until I crumbled. I tried not to look so weak, tried to keep the emotions as far away as I could but it was this house - it was filled with the memories of her that haunted me everyday. I had even found myself sneaking into their bedroom to find the perfume on her vanity, something Phil hadn't packed up yet. I kept it in my drawer next to my bed and would spray it on my pillow every other night, just to be able to feel her.

In addition to her perfume, I had raided her jewelry and took what was most important to me. A gold necklace with a pendant of a bird in mid-flight. She had bought it for herself shortly after we moved to Phoenix. She never told me why - but if I were a betting woman, I would bet that she bought it to symbolize the freedom she felt leaving Forks. And because of that, it was so much more important to be with me then packed away in a box to never be seen again. And just like the perfume, I wore the necklace almost everyday and only removed it to shower. Seeing it in the reflection of the mirror made up for how horrible I looked. I knew I was slipping, but I didn't know how to stop.

A few days after discovering the necklace I had contemplated with myself on calling my father. He had no idea what had transpired in the last few weeks and honestly - I didn't know how he would take it. I didn't know how he would react. I debated back and fourth over whether or not to call him until I finally gave up and decided it was best for me not to involve him right now.

It wasn't until awhile later that I was helping Phil pack her things that I had stumbled over my baby book. I tucked it under my arms and went upstairs as I flipped through the very few pictures of my mother and father and me. I couldn't tell if either of my parents were inebriated but I suppose it was better if I didn't. I had come across a photo of my parents, before I was born - they were on a campus in the middle of a quad, plush grass around them as they stared longingly into each others eyes. It was hard to believe that at one time, they did actually love each other. I pulled the picture out, flipping it over to see handwriting scrawled on the stained paper.

 _R,_

 _You are everything to me. My heart. My soul. It is all yours. Be mine, forever._

 _\- C_

I felt a pain in my chest that I absentmindedly began to rub with my palm. My father, despite his flaws, had loved my mother so fiercely at one point. How was he going to take this news? How was he going to live with himself knowing that she died, relapsing into the very same demons that he had created so many years ago? _I hope he feels guilty_. My subconscious growled at me, willing myself to not feel an ounce of sorrow for my father. He had drugged her into this life and put me in the middle of it when I was just an infant - did he even deserve to know?

 _Yes._

For a few days following, I fought with myself over this topic. It wasn't until one hot morning I had finally made up a decision on what to do.

"Are you sure about this?" Phil asked as he loaded the trunk of my car with my suitcase. I looked at him, my eyes pleading to not argue over this topic again. "I know, I'm a broken record... But I feel like if you just listen to what I have to say..."

"Phil, I get it. Trust me when I say this has been something I have been fighting back and fourth with since the funeral." I said, feeling the ache in my chest at hearing him plead. I appreciated Phil's concern and honestly apart of me was wishing to cave into him. But I needed to do this. I needed to go.

"If you are still fighting about it, then why don't you just stay for a few more days and think it over? Does he even know you are coming? Have you even called him?" He asked and gripped my shoulders, forcing me to look at him.

I felt like shit leaving Phil when I knew he needed me most. And truthfully, I needed him. But I needed to go - I needed to do this. It was no longer up for debate.

"Please." I begged, grabbing onto his arms that held me firm in my place. "I need you to trust me."

I noticed his eyes misting over and for a second I felt myself faltering. But instead of fighting me on it, he pulled me into the tightest hug. I could hear him sniffling - a side I rarely saw of him as he stroked the back of my hair. I held onto him just as tightly, trying to bite back the tears as we rocked back and fourth. My resolve felt like it was chipping away but the tug in my stomach was just building it back up.

"Please be safe. Call me everyday. Let me know what's going on." He pulled away to regain eye level with me. "I mean it, Bella. If you need me - I will be the -"

"First flight there. I know." I reminded him as his hand came up and cupped my cheek. "Please don't worry about me. Just know I need to do this. And the sooner I get it done, the sooner I can come back."

This time a tear really did escape my eyes, his thumb grabbing it immediately as he leaned down to kiss my forehead. We hugged one last time before I finally pulled away, giving him a soft smile as I opened my car door and sat inside. Phil lingered, only stepping back onto the porch to watch me. From my mirror, I could see tears running down his cheeks and I felt my heart break all over again. I contained a sob and grabbed my phone, typing in a few coordinates before I shifted my car into drive and sped down the dusty driveway.

" _Destination_ ," My GPS began, " _Forks, Washington_."

* * *

 _AN: Thank you for reading, I'd love your feedback. See you next chapter..._


	2. Forks

_Chapter Song - All I Wanted (Live at The Asylum Chapel) by Daughter_

 _"And I won't be bothering with mourning,_

 _it's crucial that you see the truth._

 _When looking for yourself, I am useless."_

* * *

 _Saving nickels, saving dimes... Working till the sun don't shine. Looking forward to happier times on Blue Bayou._

I felt her fingertips against my damp skin, caressing the hair that stuck to my tiny forehead behind my ear. She tugged the blankets closer to us, cocooning us in a mesh of fluff and warmth. I let out a pleased sigh, melting into her arms as my small fingers found the bird pendant that rested on her chest, twirling it against the pads of skin as the coolness of it warmed from my touch. She was so close to me, so close that I could feel her heart beating against my cheek and I relished in it, despite the fact that I could smell the bitterness of her drink on her breath. I squeezed her tighter, the nightmare that had awoken me from my sleep nothing but a memory as her voice continued its melody.

 _I'm coming back someday, come what may to Blue Bayou. Where the folks are fun and the world is mine on Blue Bayou..._

Her arm had reached down, circling under my legs as she cradled me against her as if I were an infant. I didn't mind - in fact, I molded my body to fit comfortably in her arms and against her body. The tears that had stained my cheeks were nearly gone and there was nothing but the sound of her voice that eased me from the anxiety of my dream. I could feel my eyes drifting, my fingers letting go of the bird pendant as I looked into her blood-shot hazel eyes, seeing every ounce of love and adoration a parent could have for their child.

 _Gonna see my baby again, gonna be with some of my friends. Maybe I'll feel better again on Blue Bayou..._

The screeching of tires and the blare of a horn had woken me from my trance, my fingers gripping onto the steering wheel as I slid into my lane again. My tires slipped from the sudden movement, the car swerving as drivers behind me laid down on their horns. I slammed on my breaks, finally gaining control of my wheel as I skidded to a stop on the side of the highway. Cars continued to honk as they flew by me, their headlights coming and going and occasionally lighting up the inside of my car as I noticed my fingers still squeezing onto the wheel. My knuckles were ghostly white as I finally felt myself loosening my grip, my eyes catching my reflection in the rear view mirror. My heart was pounding so hard that I could have sworn it sounded as if someone had a amplifier plugged into it.

I let out a large gust of air, my forehead dropping to rest on the top of my steering wheel as I tried to recover from the shock of the almost accident. My body was heavy with a sleepy ache, my joints screaming at me to just lay down and get even a minute of rest. But the knot that resided deep in the pit of my stomach made it difficult for me to find even an ounce of peace. I stayed in the position for a minute until the sound of my heartbeat slowed and the song on the radio grounded me back into reality.

 _I feel so bad, I got a worried mind. I'm so lonesome all the time since I left my baby behind on Blue Bayou..._

The song had a whimsical and tropical sound about it and the woman's voice was rich and melodious with a slight sense of heartbreak. It was a stark difference between hers and the one I remembered in my head. My mother missed notes and at times would make up her own tune if she had trouble remembering how the song went... But it was such a comforting memory that I hadn't even realized it came on the radio... Instead, I slipped into an almost conscience-like haze that could have turned deadly. It was as if I was there in that bed as a little girl and I could still feel her arms around me as she tried to soothe me from my nightmare.

I turned off the radio and I reached up and palmed my eyes, shaking my head before choking down a strangled cry. It barely left my lips as my body was too tired to even produce sound.

I had been on the road for over twenty four hours. The trip to Forks from Phoenix was long and grueling and it felt like I had been at it for weeks. A little less than halfway through the trip, cars started to blur together and I knew the lack of sleep was catching up with me quickly. I stopped somewhere in the middle of California at a run-down motel to get even a few hours of rest. The three hours I could sleep, I was plagued with the nightmares that had been keeping me up since the night of my mother's death. _Three hours were better than none..._

I brought my head up from the steering wheel, reaching for my phone that had fallen in the passenger seat. I had a few missed calls, one from Angela and three from Phil including a text message.

 _Just checking on you, kiddo. Call me._

My GPS informed me that I was forty some minutes outside of Forks. I blinked, looking out of my window just as the sun was peaking up from the mountains in the distance. I laid back in my seat, gazing over the vast tree line that hugged the highway. I hadn't even noticed the very obvious change of scenery of dust brown to forest green. I craned my head, rubbing the back of my neck as I felt my body relaxing into the seat, my mind easing from the anxiety. I typed out a quick text message to Phil, letting him know I was alright and was almost to Forks and that I would call him when I reached Charlie's house.

Charlie's house.

 _My old house._

I tried to swallow the sudden tightness that gripped my throat that told me I had made the wrong decision. _Too late now_. Before I could linger, I let off my break and weaved back into the road.

xx

Forks hadn't changed a bit. There was the same run-down grocery store accompanied with the same run-down diner. When I passed the police station on the corner of Main street, a memory of sitting on Charlie's lap at his desk while he did paper work popped into my head. I was always excited to go to work with him, because it was one of the few times he wouldn't be completely inebriated. He let me sit on the floor next to his chair as I drew pictures on the scrap paper he was throwing out with my crayons. I even remember one time drawing a picture of the three of us, including a familiar bottle with my father's stick figure. I hadn't known any better at the time, but when I showed him he had been with a few of his deputies and I remember his face turning a bright red - almost cherry like. He folded it in half and gave me a tight, sad smile as he slipped it into his back pocket. I never saw it again.

A little ways up the street, I stopped at the intersection and noticed the only bar in town and of course, Charlie's favorite. I had never actually been to _Masen's_ , but I remember plenty of times sitting in the parking lot in the back seat of the car as I watched my mother from the window trying to hold Charlie upright as she shoved him into the passenger seat. I had noticed it was cleaned up, the text on the window no longer chipped and worn. I wondered briefly who would take the time to rejuvenate a run-down bar in the middle of Forks but the thought was gone immediately when I heard a horn blare behind me. I muttered a curse word and drove on, turning on the heat as the brisk September air made me shiver down to my bones.

 _I definitely did not miss the rain._

It took no more than five minutes to reach the edge of town and when I turned onto Maple Drive I felt the peak of my anxiety. There were only a few houses on the street and there was a significant amount of distance between each of them. I felt a lump in my throat as I drove closer to the home I had grown up in, my palms sweating as my heart beat with an uneasiness that I couldn't calm.

And just like everything else in this Godforsaken town, the house hadn't changed.

Of course the white of the paint was worn from years of neglect as the roof was covered with a thin sheet of moss. I had noticed that the front door was different - it used to be brown with a glass panel from top to bottom in the middle. I remember sitting in the hallway, reading my book from the light of the sun right next to the coat rake because Renee missed the electricity bill. Instead, it was now just a normal wooden door with no glass panel. Of course, you couldn't miss the beer bottles that littered the porch. I rolled my eyes, not sure if I was expecting much else from Charlie. I pulled in onto the side, next to the large elm tree as I noticed a red truck in the driveway.

I grabbed my phone and sent a quick text to Phil that I had made it in safely before opening the car door. I took one step at a time, feeling the knot in my stomach growing bigger at the second. _Would he remember me?_ Do I hug him? Would he hug me? Would he cry? Would _I_ cry? The anger that I had felt over my drunk of a father roared immediately and scolded me for being sentimental. It reminded me that I was here for one purpose only - to tell him what happened to my mother. And maybe even throw a punch or two. Because ultimately, he was one of the direct causes of her death. While he didn't force her to swallow the pills, his influence so many years ago is what lead to her downfall. And I didn't know how to cope with that, I didn't know how to process it.

While I was conflicted internally, I forced myself to move. I reached close to the porch and grabbed ahold of the metal rail and took one step at a time. I pushed some of the beer bottles out of the way with my foot as I reach the top step, moving closer to the door as I felt like I could be sick at any moment. But before I could continue to fight with myself on whether this was a good or bad decision or whether I would hug him or punch him, I lifted my fist to the door.

I had the courage to knock three times, stepping back as I awaited the door to open. There was nothing but silence on the other side and I knocked once more for good measure. Still nothing. I took a chance and reached for the knob because leaving it unlocked _would_ be something Charlie would do.

 _We have a little girl who sleeps upstairs for Christ's sakes, Charlie! Lock the goddamn door when you get home!_

I shook my head quickly at the memory and turned the knob to only find it locked. I knocked once more before finally giving up on the front door. I stepped down the stairs and moved towards the bushes to look through the windows of any sign of life inside but the blinds were blocking any view. Annoyed, I began making my way around the side before I heard a voice behind me.

"You looking for Swan?" I turned quickly, noticing one of the neighbors at the next house. The older man leaned against the railing of his porch with his cup of coffee and newspaper in his hand. _Would it be completely wrong to ask a stranger for some coffee?_ I definitely needed energy to be able to get through this day. I moved towards the house, my arms crossing over my chest as I nodded my head.

"Yeah, I am. Have you seen him?" I asked loudly in order for him to hear me from the several yards in between us.

"Not since the other night, but I'm sure I know where you can find him." He said, tucking the newspaper under his arm. "He'll be at Masen's."

 _The bar?_

I knew I shouldn't have been surprised, but it was nearing seven in the morning. The sun was barely even up. What bar is open at a time like this and in a small town like Forks no less? I laughed venomously and waved at the neighbor as a thanks and headed back to my car, kicking myself for not trying the only bar in town first.

xx

When I parked at Masen's, there was only one car in the lot and I was pretty sure Charlie did not drive what looked like a brand new Jeep Wrangler. But, I was desperate to find him to get whatever it was I am trying to do over with. When I reached the door, I hesitated at the ' _Sorry, we're closed_ ' sign. I stood near the large glass window and peeked through, seeing chairs stack upside down at the tables as only a few neon lights lit up the bar. I went back to the door, knocking on it a few times before I finally heard shuffling - a voice screaming that they were closed before it flew open.

"Can't you read?!" The man shouted, clearly annoyed by the intrusion. I felt myself recoil back just at the sheer size of him, dark curls defining the top of his head as his blue eyes softened at the sight of me. "Damn, I'm sorry - I didn't mean to shout at you. I thought you were one of my regulars..." He said, his eyes squinting at me as he tried to decipher who I was. The town of Forks was so small that everyone knew everyone and I'm sure he was thrown off by the sight of an unfamiliar face. "Can I help you with something? We don't open until noon and you look like too nice of a girl to want a drink at seven in the morning." His smile was contagious and if I hadn't been so damn tired, I may have reflected it.

"I'm sorry to bother you so early. I'm looking for Charlie Swan." I said pointedly, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket.

"Swan?" He asked confusingly as I nodded. "You a cop or something because I told him last night I wouldn't be his alibi again." His tone was lighthearted but something made me think that he wasn't lying - of course Charlie's greatest alibi would be the bar.

"No, I'm not a cop. I just need to find him, do you know where he is?" I asked and he nodded, glancing over his shoulder and into the bar before turning back to me.

"Alright, I believe you aren't a cop but if you are lying, you gotta tell him I tried to help his sorry ass, okay? He's my best paying customer. I don't think I can afford to have him go to jail, ya know?" He smirked at me even though I found no humor in his joke. But the last thing I wanted to do was seem cold because I had hopes that this man would end the wild goose chase I was on. I smiled at him, even sparing a laugh as I nodded, holding up three fingers towards him as if saying _scout's honor_. "He's crashed in the back office. I couldn't get him out last night and dude could barely stand on two legs. I can show you where he is." He said, stepping aside to allow me in.

I stepped inside, my body warming instantly at the heat that hit my cheeks. I pulled my hands out and glanced around, taking in the bar that my parents had visited many times. The floor was woodened with a few scuffs here and there and there were several round tables around the room. A pool table nestled in the back, a neon sign reading _Masen's_ lit behind it. The walls had tons of pictures on them, ranging from old sports cars photos to a few movie posters such as The Godfather and Scarface. The bar was wooden, a white light underneath it casting a shadow on the floor as the wall behind the bar was rows of bottles. The large man headed towards the swinging door near the front of the bar, nodding his head in gesture for me to follow.

"I'm gonna be honest with you and say that you probably won't have much luck waking him up. He crashes here almost every night and doesn't wake up until evening time only to do it all over again. I even hosed him down once and he still didn't get up for that shit." He laughed as we walked back into the hallway and stopped at the very last door. He opened it up, moving to the side to let me.

The room had tan walls, a stark difference than the walls out on the main floor. A large black desk accompanied with a very expensive looking computer and leather chair sat to the left of me. Behind the chair was a wall that was nothing but bookcases, filled with spines and small trinkets for decoration. I looked to my right seeing a sitting area across from the desk including a black leather couch and a back facing towards me.

I took in a gust of air at the sight of my father curled up on the couch with a thin plaid blanket covering up to his waist. I moved to him hesitantly at first, watching as he barely moved. His face was turned away from me, but I could see his dark brown hair peppered with gray and a peak of his mustache resting hazardously under his nose. I didn't even get a full sight of him before I felt a surge of emotions run through me.

"Charlie." I said, my voice low. He didn't move.

"You're gonna have to do better than that." The man said from behind me. This time I said his name again, a bit louder. Still nothing. I reached down, tapping at his shoulder as I grew increasingly annoyed.

"Charlie, wake up." I said louder, now shoving him harder. "Charlie!" I screamed as he groaned loudly, pushing himself deeper into the cushions. " _Asshole_." I muttered under my breath and turned back to the man who just shrugged.

"I got a pot of coffee going if you are interested. If you want a cup we can throw the rest onto him. I bet that'll get him moving." He smiled suggestively and while the thought was entertaining, I fantasized of scoffing down the whole pot rather than waste a drop of it on my father.

"A cup of coffee would be great."

xx

I eased up onto the barstool and steadied myself with my elbows that planted firmly onto the bar top. The brewing coffee had alerted my senses immediately as my leg bounced underneath me with anticipation. The man had grabbed two mugs from the bottom of the bar and set them to the side as he waited for the pot to finish. I found this quiet moment to reflect on my first time seeing Charlie in over ten years. I didn't anticipate much but I couldn't lie and say I didn't hold out just an ounce of hope that I would find him recovered, maybe with a good job and a new woman to keep him company. I laughed at the idiocy of that hope knowing certainly that Charlie would never change. He'd always be Charlie. A drunk. An addict. But apart of me was glad he was knocked out from a drunken stupor, it made it easier for me not hit him when he was defenseless.

"Here ya go," the man said, breaking my thought as I reached out immediately for the cup. "I suppose you don't want cream?" He raised a brow as he watched me take a deep gulp despite the pain of my tongue burning. I shook my head quickly, setting my mug down but still kept a strong grip on it. The caffeine entered my system immediately, lighting my skin on fire as I relished in the energy it was going to give me, even if only briefly.

"Thank you..." I trailed off, realizing quickly that I had never caught his name.

"Emmett," He laughed, sensing my impending anxiety. "Emmett Cullen."

"Emmett." I nodded, raising my mug to him as another silent thank you before taking another drink. "I'm Bella."

"Well, _Bella_ , I hope you don't mind my questions but if you say you are not a cop, then what do you want with Swan? I mean, not many people come looking for him - unless he owes them money. Or is this like some secret FBI shit that if you tell me, you'd have to kill me?" His eyes lit with enthusiasm.

"No," I shook my head quickly that followed with a nervous laughter, "My life is definitely not that exciting."

"That's a shame, that'd really shake up a small town like this." He shrugged as I took the last swig of my coffee, feeling the sleepiness melt away from my bones. The rush wouldn't last too long, I knew that - but for now it would do the trick. "So, you are not a cop or FBI or least that you say... You are too pretty to be involved with any drug cartels he may owe money too..." He grinned, implying the joke but I wouldn't put it past Charlie to get involved with things like that. "Are you a relative?"

I nodded my head as a response but hesitated with my explanation. I didn't intend on anyone but Charlie knowing I was here. And I certainly didn't want any roots planted here either. My objective was to get in, tell Charlie the news, help him through whatever impending breakdown he would have and then say my goodbyes. But Emmett had been so kind - especially when he didn't have to be.

"I'm his daughter." I finally let out watching as his eyes widened as if he were saying, ' _well that will definitely shake up the town_.' "Can I get another?" I asked, tipping my empty mug towards him as he reached down tentatively, taking it slowly before turning to pour it.

"I didn't know he had a daughter." Emmett said, turning back towards me and reaching the coffee mug forward before he stopped abruptly, paling instantly. "Does _he_ know he has a daughter?"

"Yes, I used to live here with him." I said, reaching for the mug and taking another sip. "My mom and I moved to Phoenix about fourteen years ago."

"How come I've never seen you around?" He asked.

"This is the first time I've been back." I shrugged, offering no other explanation. Emmett noticed my body language and only nodded at the comment, not pressing any further. The sun had finally broke through the mountains, lighting the bar in a deep caramel orange as life outside began to start the day. "So you said he does this often?" I asked and Emmett hesitated on his answer, conflicted with ruining my father's character around me. _Too late._

"Uh, yeah, just a few times really." He said with a shrug, a complete contrast to his earlier comment. _He crashes here almost every night and doesn't wake up until evening time only to do it all over again..._ "He can get a little out of hand, but hey, who doesn't?"

"You don't have to defend him." I said pointedly, my lack of sleep making me brave. "He's been a drunk all my life and probably will be for the rest of his." Emmett nearly paled, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck with his large palms as he let out a breathy chuckle. "Nothing you can say will surprise me, I promise you."

"Well, in that case - then yes. He does crash here almost every night. I'm not sure how he does it, honestly. He's either got a liver made of stone or it's getting ready to kick any day now." He said as he turned to pour himself another cup of coffee.

"So he doesn't go home often?"

"I'm not sure. I only work a few hours here and there to help out when I am needed. And it is typically during this time just to prepare for the day. And as you can tell, when I am here he is passed out." He gestured towards the door that led down the hall and I nodded as I began tapping my thumb against my mug. "So, I can assume you guys aren't close?"

"Not exactly." I agreed, my tone flat.

"Well, like I said, he doesn't get any visitors. At least not any good ones. And I'd considered you to be a good one. Maybe it will help him keep the bottle down for a few hours." He said with an encouraging smile but I just snorted, shaking my head at his attempt for a silver lining.

"So, you don't own this place?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Hell no." He laughed into his coffee, "I believe if you are going to invest in property, you do it somewhere marketable. And Forks is not the place, that's for damn sure. My cousin owns Masen's. And the only reason he does is that he took it after his father. I told him to sell it for what it is worth, but he kept it for sentimental reasons."

"And he makes a profit here?" I asked.

"Minimal. Charlie's tab keeps pays the bills." He laughed. "It's not much, but for some people in this town, it's the only thing they know."

Emmett continued on, talking about how Forks was stuck in the past and there are people here who are stuck with it. Like his cousin and Charlie. I tried to stay alert but even with the coffee surging through my veins, sitting in one place was making me lethargic. Soon the sounds around me blended together like low garbles and I quickly rubbed my eyes, trying to will myself awake. But my mind was betraying me, my body pleading for me to just shut my eyes.

"Bella?" Emmett gained my attention and my hands dropped loudly onto the counter as I blinked at him. "I know we just met and I don't mean to be a dick but you look like shit." He hesitated but I just laughed, agreeing with him.

"It was a long drive," I admitted.

"Well, I'd offer you the couch but..." He trailed off and I quickly shook my head.

"I'm going to go rent a room at the motel, but, could I ask you for a favor?" I asked, standing up from the stool. My legs were wobbly but a shot of energy ran through me that gave me the hope that I could at least make it to a bed. "I know you said you only work mornings but could you or the next person working text me when he gets up?" I asked as he nodded, turning to grab a small notepad and a pen. I wrote down my number along with my name before reaching into my pocket for my wallet.

"Coffee is on the house," He said, reading my motions. I hesitated as if asking _are you sure_ and he only nodded his head. "If you are related to Swan, you are going to need all the free caffeine you can get."

xx

Ten hours.

 _I slept for ten hours._

I couldn't even remember the last time I got that much sleep. When I woke, I felt one less weight lifted off my shoulder. Not only did I sleep for ten hours but I did so without any nightmares. I couldn't explain the logistics of it, but if I had to guess I would assume that my body and mind were so worn out that I didn't even have the energy to dream.

I spent a half an hour in the shower, scrubbing my body with the shampoos provided by the motel. My stiff shoulders relaxed under the hot spray of the water as I closed my eyes, willing myself to relax and avoid the anxiety I knew would be building up soon. After my shower, I wrapped myself up in a plush towel and sat at the end of my bed with my cell phone. I had a two missed messages, one from Phil asking me to call him when I could. I typed out a message quickly, promising to call soon. The next message was from an unknown number.

 _Charlie is awake._

I read over the short text a few times as the realities outside of the motel came crashing down. I knew this is what I came here to do but apart of me wished I had just stayed in bed. _The sooner you do this, the sooner you can go home and move on with your life._ I got myself dressed, preparing for the bitter September weather here in Forks and pulled on my boots.

I arrived to Masen's no more than fifteen minutes later. From my car, I could see a small crowd from the window and none of them looked like Charlie. I turned the ignition off and stepped out of the car, heading towards the front. I opened the door, taking in the bar that was a stark difference then when I had last seen it at seven this morning. People crowded around the bar, a few at the tables in the middle of the room and four men at the pool table. _Free Bird_ was playing from the speakers in each corner of the room as the group at the table farthest from me sang off tune with Lynyrd Skynyrd. I noticed a few eyes moving towards me in curiosity as I turned towards the bar noticing a blonde haired man had replaced Emmett. He poured a few shots, sliding them down the table towards a crowd as men slammed their fists against the bar, cheering on whoever was taking the alcohol down.

"If you spew anywhere in here, you'll be cleaning it up, Swan." The blonde haired man said over the chattering crowd as a split between two men offered me a perfect view of the man in a raggedy plaid button down, greasy hair down to his ears as I caught slight glimpse of his face as his head continuously threw back to take down the shots. As the guitar riffed in the song, he was half way through the multiple shots he was given. Every time he finished one, he slammed them upside down onto the bar until there was nothing left. The men around him cheered, patting him on the back as some sort of applause as he laughed, stumbling over his two legs. The sight of him caused my fists to clench, my chest tightening with an emotion that I felt like I just couldn't control. Because while I was livid of this man, the sight of him after fourteen years spoke to the young Bella that still resided in my soul.

"Fifty bucks says he is passed out in a pile of vomit in ten minutes." A young, dark haired man said from the other side of the bar as he took a swig of his beer.

"Lahote, you obviously haven't been acquainted with my liver." The sound of his voice caused a chill down my spin at the first time in hearing it for years. "I could take five more of those before you even finished the beer you've been nursing on for the past two hours and I _still_ would be able to function properly."

"It's not a fucking competition, Charlie." The blonde haired man glared at him as he cleaned a glass with a white towel.

"Let him do it, it's his death wish." The man said. "There is no fucking way you could do another round of shots like that. One of these days, Swan, you won't be able to rely on that liver of yours. Probably sooner rather than later."

"It's gotten me this far," Charlie smugly patted over his ribcage as he slammed his hand down onto the bar again. "Jasper, my good man, another round of shots for me. And add another beer to my tab for Paul. Don't open it just yet for him, he might not need it until tomorrow when he's finished with the one he is on."

"Dickhead." The man, Paul, said as he shook his head.

The bartender set up a line of shots and filled them up to the top. The crowd around Charlie looked at him nervously but Charlie stared down at the shot glasses as a challenge. The moment the bartender finished pouring the last one, Charlie already had the first down his throat. It took a few extra seconds than usual but in normal Charlie style, he finished them all.

"Easiest fifty bucks I'll make today... Pay up, Lahote." Charlie slurred as he moved closer to the other end of the bar. Paul looked at him with disgust, taking one last swig of his beer before standing from his seat.

"I ain't paying you shit." Paul sneered.

"That's not very fair," Charlie frowned, holding himself upright against one of the bar stools. "They hang people for that shit in other countries. And I for one, commend them of it! Lying is a horrible quality to have, Paul, and unfortunately for you - your generation is nothing but a bunch of liars. A real man sticks to his word! That's how the real world works. Hardworking, loyal and honest."

"Swan, don't you scam the Government every year?" Another voice said from the other side of the bar.

"That is not a scam, Harry." Charlie said matter of factly as he whipped around to the man, pointing his finger right at him. "The Government is a soul-sucking machine that takes from the poor and feeds the rich. _I_ am just keeping what is _mine_. But that's not the point -" He turned back to Paul who already had his coat on, "Do you really want to have the reputation of a liar, Lahote? No one likes a liar."

"You are full of shit, Charlie." Harry chuckled, shaking his head.

"Stay out of this, Clearwater." Charlie snapped, zoning in on Paul. "All I'm saying is this... Your family name has already been tarnished by your father who got caught laundering money through his lumber business... I'm the one who sent the man to prison when I was Chief. Do you really want to be like your father?"

"Fuck you, Swan!" Paul growled as he threw the bottle in his hands at the wall, it shattering in pieces as he charged toward my father. Charlie was up quickly but he stumbled getting fully off the stool. Everything happened so fast, I didn't even know how to process it until Charlie was already on the ground with Paul on top of him.

"Knock it the hell off!" The bartender screamed, grabbing ahold of Paul by his jacket but he wasn't quick enough. I found myself shouting out and moving towards the commotion as Paul's fist connected with Charlie's nose. The crowd at the bar moved, blocking my access and the next thing I knew, Paul was being thrown out.

I pushed my way through the men, finding a break and seeing Charlie on the ground - _laughing_.

"That temper will get you killed one day!" He shouted, but it was muffled. He was holding his nose as blood seeped through the cracks, his eyes closing tightly with a groan leaving his lips. I moved towards him, knelling as I tried to access his wound but his joints were tight and he wouldn't budge.

"Charlie!" I yelled, gaining his attention quickly. His eyes flew open, his hand dropping from his nose as I noticed it was crooked even with the blood smearing on his face. _Definitely broken_.

The way he looked at me - it was as if he had seen a ghost. His blood-shot eyes were wide, his pupils were black as his jaw slacked open from the obvious surprise of my presence. I didn't know how I looked - concerned, sad, pissed. I figured it was a mixture of it all. I had plans to come here, tell him the news, scream until my face turned blue while accusing him of getting my mother addicted to whatever it was that started it all - but I couldn't find the words in my throat. Especially not after he had been punched.

"Renee?" His voice was so soft that I barely heard it over the music. Her name coming out of his mouth surged anger through me - as if I wanted to scream at him that he didn't deserve to mention her. He remained on the floor but pushed himself from his position, moving so that his back was leaning against the bar. Very quickly I noticed the tears crowding his eyes and despite my bitterness, I felt a quick pulse of empathy for him. It was only a fleeting moment, so brief that I didn't really have time to understand it.

"No, it's me. It's Bella." I said, noticing that the blonde bartender had bursted the bubble as he offered a wet rag to me. I took it, sparing a quiet thank you as I reached up to place it onto Charlie's face. He tensed immediately, looking away like a child refusing medicine when they are sick. "You need to go to the hospital, your nose is broken."

"Why are you here?" He asked immediately, blinking his tears away. I ignored him, reaching over again and placed the rag onto his nose. He shouted a few expletives but finally took the rag, holding it up as it began to change colors from white to red.

"I need to take you to the hospital. You need to get your nose checked out." I reached to grab him but he shoved away, shaking his head.

"No hospitals. I'm fine." He growled as I rolled my eyes, leaning back onto my heels. Charlie began to stand and I stepped back watching as the bartender, Jasper, helped him up and onto the stool. "I need a whiskey, Jasper."

"Seriously, Charlie?" I grounded out as he looked back at me with a shrug.

"It will numb the pain." He pulled the rag away, wincing at the amount of blood before folding it, placing it back onto his nose gingerly. "Thank you." He said as Jasper handed him a small glass of whiskey. I wanted to snap at the bartender, tell him how stupid it was that he just handed Charlie a drink after he inhaled ten shots. But, something told me this wasn't an abnormal night for my father.

I moved slowly to the bar stool next to him, waving the bartender off as he asked if I needed anything. I noticed that the crowd had disappeared, only a few people remained at the tables and Harry Clearwater still at the other side of the bar. Jasper had a broom in his hand, sweeping up the glass shards on the floor and it seemed as if nothing had even transpired in the past two minutes. I began to wonder how common of an occurrence this was - how many times Charlie drank himself into this type of mess, how many people he pissed off and how many of those kicked his ass because of it. Apart of me realized that these people, the regulars, were used to this type of commotion when Charlie was around. I turned towards Charlie to find him staring right at me, rag to his nose as he eyes seemed to take in every bit of my appearance. I squirmed under his gaze as I began tapping my thumb against the bar.

"You look just like her." His voice broke the silence and the words cut me like a knife, leaving me nearly breathless. At this time Jasper had walked closer to our vicinity as he dumped the glass into the trash can. I raised my hand, gaining his attention.

"Captain, please." I said quickly. He sensed the tone, quickly setting a shot glass in front of me as he filled it up to the rim with Captain Morgan. I figured if I were going to have this conversation tonight, I'd try and meet Charlie on his playing field. I downed the shot quickly, grimacing at the after taste as I slid Jasper the shot glass.

"It ain't that bad." Charlie laughed as I cut my eyes to him.

"Maybe not for an alcoholic." I said cooly. Charlie's jaw tightened, his eyes looking down to the dark drink in front of him. From over the rag on his nose, he gazed at the drink, his fingers gripping the glass as he hesitated. He didn't know this side of me - he only knew Bella, the ten year old who liked the color purple, loved playing with her dolls and wearing her Princess nightgown to sleep. No - he didn't know this _Bella_. The Bella who outgrew the dolls and princesses. The Bella who earned nearly a 4.0 on her transcripts, the one who studied to become an Author. The Bella who liked her coffee black and _typically_ strayed away from alcohol from the fear of becoming like him. The Bella who walked in on her mother, overdosed on pain killers. No, he didn't know me at all. Not anymore.

Charlie's hesitation of the drink was short-lived. The moment of regret of who he is and what he has become gone in an instant as he lowered the rag and took a swig. I shook my head, angry for him being the drunk he always was. Angry at myself thinking a comment like that would even sink into his brain.

Once an addict, always an addict. Charlie was no different.

"Why did you come here, Bells?" He asked. No one but him had ever called me that nickname and it opened a flood of memories that I tried to keep as far away as possible. _I love you always, Bells._

"What? I can't visit my father?" I asked.

"I didn't mean it like..." He grumbled, taking another drink before setting the empty glass down onto the bar. "I just mean it's been... What? Eight years? I didn't expect you. No call, no letter... Nothing."

"Fourteen."

"What?" He turned to me.

"It's been fourteen years."

Charlie stopped, lost in thought. I shouldn't be surprised he had lost track of time, his addiction blending the days together. The last time he saw me was when mom was loading up the car with me right behind her. _I am going to come visit you, Bells. I promise. I promise, I'll get over this... I'm going to get better. I'll get better for you, Bells._

"Shit." He whispered under his breath, running his free hand through his greasy hair. "How old are you now?"

"I'll be twenty-five this month." I answered.

"The thirteenth. I remember." He nodded, "Did you go to school? Did you get a degree?"

"I graduated with honors at ASU in English." I kept my answer simple, giving away as little content as I could. I wasn't sure if I wanted him to know that part of my life.

"I knew you were smart," He smirked at me, "I really knew it. You were always reading books and writing in journals. I knew you'd grow up to be something big. Bigger than this shit hole." His empty laugh echoed in my ears but I stayed silent. "And your mom? She's got to be so proud of you."

The silence grew so thick, I felt like I was choking on it. Even the mention of her twisted the knife that was lodged deep into my abdominal. I seeded hatred grew deeply for him when he brought her up - because he didn't know. He had no clue what he had done.

"Look," I said through clenched teeth, "I came here for a reason. And I really don't want to say what I have to say here. Can we go back to the house?"

"I remember when you were just a kid..." He seemed to defiantly ignore everything I had said, "You had a raggedy stuffed animal... A dog, I think?"

"A cat." I corrected, running a palm across my face as I blew out a breath.

"Oh right... You took that thing everything with you. You slept with it, you ate with it... Damn, if it hadn't been for your mom, you may have bathed with it!" He laughed at the memory, sniffling. "I remember one time we took you to the fairgrounds in Portland and you left it there. We didn't realize it until we were pulling in the driveway and you had this full on melt down. I had never seen you act that way, you were such a good kid." I wanted to say something, wanted to mention something about his addiction which is why he never saw any melt downs as a kid - he was too busy being drunk or high. But I kept my mouth shut and let him continue. "I don't know if you know this or not but I went all the way back the Portland that night. The fair had closed but I convinced the keeper to let me look for the cat. I never found it," He paused with a shrug, "So I bought you a new one. It was different and you knew it but you were so happy that I tried...I think that is the last time I actually saw you genuinely smile at me."

I noticed his demeanor change after he finished his story - I wondered briefly what struck him to tell it, but I could sense that once he was done he felt worse bringing it up at all. I tried to relate - I tried level with him on some way and remember the memories and feel any emotion towards it. It was clear that me being here was stirring up something inside of him that he kept locked up for over a decade.

"Charlie -"

"You came here for a reason, you said?" He interrupted me, "What reason is that, exactly?"

"I can't do this here. If you don't want to talk somewhere else, then fine. Just call me when you get home and I'll stop by." I said, slipping off the the bench as I prepared to write down my number on the napkin.

"Hey, hey, hey..." Charlie stumbled onto his feet, grabbing ahold of my arm. I stopped my motions, glaring at his hand on my shoulder. "You just got here... I don't want you to leave. And God knows I'm not finished drinking, it's barely midnight. Sit down, have another drink and let's just talk. It isn't everyday I get to see my baby girl."

"I can't, Charlie. I don't even want to be here in the -"

"What's with all this _Charlie_ shit?" He cut me off as he stepped back. "What? I'm no longer dad to you?"

"You haven't been for a long time." The words slipped unfiltered and I watched as his face turned. The words were cut deep, but I couldn't find it in myself to lie to spare his feelings. He stepped back, holding onto the bar to sit back in his seat. He brought his hands up to his eyes, rubbing them aggressively but avoided his nose. Now that it was clean, I could clearly see the abnormality from Paul's punch. He had a cut, just at the bridge of it as his nostrils were pink from the residue of the blood. He waved at Jasper silently and a few moments later, Jasper turned to him with a new glass of whiskey. It was astounding to actually see the amount of alcohol he was consuming. As a child, I never was able to process it. But Charlie had drank more in the last hour than I have had in the last few years and he was still standing on his two feet. _Barely_.

The silence was deafening, even with the bar music that was playing. Charlie drank his whiskey in two gulps as I noticed his leg began to bounce under the bar.

"I know I've been a shit father, Bells. You don't have to tell me that. But you show up here after _fourteen_ years telling me that you have something you want to talk about." His tone was hard and I knew he was growing irritated. "This is my life and I consider this my home. So whatever you want to say, just say it." He slapped his hand down on the bar, demanding another drink.

I didn't know what came over me - maybe it was the buzz of the shot or maybe it was the dug up memories from being in this town. Or perhaps it was being face to face with my father, seeing that there was no change in the past fourteen years. Instantly, I felt the need to leave - to get the hell out of here. But I couldn't do it without telling him what I needed to. And that's when it tumbled out - that's when I opened my mouth.

"Mom's dead."

The two words pulsed with an ache in my heart. I kept a straight face as best as I could, but I could still feel the tears prickling at my eyes. I knew it was my reality - but saying it out loud made it even more real. And I wasn't sure that I was quite ready to accept it.

I also wasn't ready for my Charlie's reaction.

It's almost as if he didn't hear me, his glass to lips for a moment as he absorbed my words. I knew he heard what I said - I could see his mustache twitch as he slowly dropped the glass and set it on the table - it still completely full. He looked down at his whiskey, staring at it as if it was have a conversation with him. He was so still and if it weren't for the fact that I could see his back move up so slightly, I would have thought he stopped breathing. I said his name for good measure, just in case he _didn't_ hear me. He twitched at my voice, his fingers curling up making fists in his hands as he grew ghostly pale. I thought he might be in shock, thought that at any moment he was going to fall to the ground and faint.

And then he leaned over - throwing up all over the floor.

* * *

 _AN: Thank you to everyone who favorited/followed/commented on the first chapter. It literally fills me with joy reading your responses and I hope I continue to capture your mind with every chapter._


	3. Disarm

_Chapter Song - Disarm by The Civil Wars (Original by The Smashing Pumpkins)_

 _Disarm you with a smile_  
 _And leave you like they left me here_  
 _To wither in denial_  
 _The bitterness of one who's left alone_  
 _The years burn_  
 _Ooh, the years burn, burn, burn_

* * *

"Okay ... Come on ... Just one more step ..."

" _I can't..._ "

"Yes you can, come on ... One ... Two ... Three ..."

I gripped onto Charlie's side tightly, his arm loosely around my shoulder as I moved us together, tackling the one last step on his porch. Charlie let out an agonizing groan, and it echoed into the empty street, my free hand fishing in my pocket for the keys I had taken from him prior to us leaving Masen's. The door was in sight, but with a hundred and eighty pounds leaning on me for support, I was struggling to keep myself on my feet.

In a desperate attempt, I tried to budge him closer, but he was slipping — I extended my arm forward, gritting my teeth until I could slide the key into the lock, twisting it quickly before reachingthe handle, clicking it open. But the weight of Charlie and the odd angle at which I was holding him caused my knees to buckle, and I pushed him forward with the small amount of energy I had left. I toppled onto the porch as Charlie had made it halfway in the door, falling to the floor and bracing himself with his forearms. He let out a few curses before rolling over onto his side and curling himself into a fetal position. With my palms on the wooden porch, I fought through the searing pain that pulsed in my knees from the impact of my fall, willing myself not to cry. I closed my eyes as tight as I could and took in deep breaths, wielding the pain away and pushing through.

Charlie groaned from inside the house, his upper half lying on the rug near the stairs as his legs still dangled through the open door. I noticed his cheek welting up, the small cut caked with dry blood as it began to turn purple and black. I dropped from my knees and onto my bottom as I began rubbing my eyes ... the ten hours of sleep I had earlier that day wiped away with exhaustion that radiated through my body.

After Charlie had finished vomiting all over the floor at Masen's, he tried to stand, only to slip and ram, head first, back to the floor. His cheek had caught the edge of the bar, which resulted in the bruise forming on his face, the cut nearly deep enough for stitches. The bartender, Jasper, had moved just as quickly as I did as we tried to help him up, but he was inconsolable and nothing but dead weight. He was covered with his own vomit, tears running down his face as he repeated the same sentence over and over again...

 _Renee ... Renee ... Oh God, Renee ..._

I tried to block him out, tried to avoid the onslaught of tears I knew were forming under my eyes at the mention of her name. I had cleaned him up the best I could, but I knew he would need more attention than I could give him here. Jasper had helped me pick him up and put him in my car, and before I left, I made a chance to apologize to him for what my father had done.

 _It's not the first time I've cleaned up Swan's mess. And I'm sure it won't be the last._

Again, I was surprised about how everyone was so nonchalant about Charlie's heavy alcoholism. I knew they weren't family and probably weren't even close friends, but I felt disappointed that no one had at least tried to help him ... tried to cut him off after his tenth shot or didn't enable him by allowing him to sleep on the couch in the office. It was as if everyone was telling him it was okay to be this way. And that angered me all the way down to my bones.

"I'm so sorry ... I just wanted to see you." His words had brought me out of my trance as I watched him curl up like a child, knees almost to his chin. "I just wanted to tell you I love you. I just wanted you to fucking know. I never stopped, Renee."

His words burned on my skin like a branding iron.

"Okay, Charlie ..." I stood, despite the ache in my knees. I walked over to him, ignoring his apologies and proclamations because I knew they weren't directed at me; they were for her. And a bitterness settled in my chest knowing she would never hear them. _She would never know_. I shook my head, suppressing the agony that built up in my throat so I could focus on one breakdown at a time. "We need to get you to bed."

"I can't."

"Let me at least get you to the couch, you will mess up your back if you sleep on the floor." I pointed out as he unraveled himself, his eyes blinking but looking beyond me. His peppered hair was matted to his forehead from sweat, his cheeks sunken and pale from years of neglect of any healthy living.

"Just leave me here." He whispered, closing his eyes.

"I need to close the door," I said, but he only shook his head. "Come on, Charlie, I didn't sign up to take care of you like this."

"Then go!" He shouted, "Leave me the fuck alone."

I stood angrily, my chest swallowing the need to just leave him here, door unlocked and opened be damned. It was his own fault. But the thought was gone almost instantly. I knew I couldn't do it. Because no matter how much I tried, no matter how much I hated him for being the drunk that he was - he was still my father. I had to do _something_. Even if he deserved nothing.

I walked around to the front of him, my feet just above his head as I reached down and grabbed onto the collar of his jacket and pulled. He uncurled immediately at the sudden motion, his eyes flying open as he looked around frantically. At first, I struggled, the rug making it difficult to move him, but once I had him on the hardwood, he slid easily despite his flailing.

"What the hell!" He screamed as I bypassed the stairs, pulling him into the living room as I rounded the side table just close enough to the plush green couch. I let go of him, allowing his head to fall against the floor as I felt my heart racing. I wasted no time, despite my exhaustion, grabbing him from under his arms and pulling him to the couch. I wasn't sure if he felt sorry for me or just realized I was the only person here to help him off this floor, but he leaned his body up, making it easier for me to get him onto the cushions. I let go once he was halfway on, stepping to the other side as I lifted his legs, placing them at the end.

I felt a light sheen of sweat build on my forehead, and I wiped it quickly, running my fingers through my hair as I began to tug off my jacket, placing his keys and mine on the coffee table. Charlie curled up onto the couch, his face buried into the back pillows as his legs tucked up. His shoulders began to vibrate, his sobs quieted by the cushions.

I tried not to feel sorry for him, and a part of me was angry at him for being so emotional - I couldn't even find the power inside me to yell at him like I had originally planned. Because I realized at that moment that Charlie was like a child. A helpless child who couldn't care for himself, one that got sick and became incapable of doing anything around him, which included carrying himself to the comfort of a bed. I felt like I was being consumed by his own addiction, as if I was up to my waist in his problems. I sat down on the edge of the coffee table and set my head in my palms, wondering how I was going to make it through this.

I didn't have enough time to contemplate on my thoughts before Charlie started to throw up again.

I had caught the sign early, the dry heaving came first, and I bolted to him, turning him so he released the fluids onto the floor rather than the couch. I held his shoulders as he tensed, whatever was left in his stomach releasing in spurts. The smell was vile, my eyes watering as I tried to focus on holding him up and not let him fall into it. He heaved a few more times, nothing but spit coming up before he laid back down ... his eyes bloodshot from the pressure his body went through to expel the remnants in his stomach. I let go of his shoulders, comfortable enough that he wasn't going to be sick again as I walked away, ignoring the guttural moan that left his throat.

When I entered the kitchen, I spent more time than I should have looking for cleaning supplies before settling with warm soapy water and paper towels. I scrubbed the floor next to the couch, cleaning up his mess before I made my way up the stairs to the only bathroom. I rummaged through his medicine cabinet for any type of pain reliever because he would _definitely_ need it in the morning. The shelves were stocked with some combs, a few tubes of hair gel that I was sure were purchased back in the nineties and empty prescription bottles. I shuffled through the drawers before landing on a small red and white bottle of Ibuprofen and walked back down to the main level, setting the bottle on the side table next to his head. I went to turn the lamp off farthest from him until I heard him shuffle, looking down to see his eyes open as he staring at the ceiling.

"That's the only reason you came back, wasn't it?" His voice was low, my chin dropping to look at him, my fingers hesitating on the switch of the lamp.

"What other reason would there be?" I asked. Charlie let out an empty chuckle, shaking his head.

"Spending time with your old man?" He challenged, still laughing, but his voice was etched with the realization that he already knew my feelings towards his question. I stayed quiet, finally moving my hand away from the lamp as I stood to the side of the couch. "How...?" His voice was low, his arms crossed over his chest as his hair and mustache were in disarray from shoving himself into the cushions.

I didn't need him to explain his simple question ... he wanted to know how she died.

And I contemplated my answer. I could have lied, could have told him anything but the truth. Car crash, heart attack, fell off a cliff, parachute broke when skydiving... Those sounded like better ways to go. But Charlie was already breaking down, and I wasn't sure if I wanted him to fall even more. I didn't want to be in any deeper than I was. But the thought brought a sadness that washed over me like a wave, swallowing me whole. I couldn't lie, because he needed to know. He needed to know firsthand what he had created all those years ago, and how it rippled down to just a few weeks ago.

I moved, sitting myself down on the coffee table in front of him. He refused to look at me, his eyes staring straight up at the white ceiling. His lip twitched, as if he were going to say something to the silence I created, but I sighed, breaking the quiet before opening my mouth.

"You know how," I whispered.

" _Goddamn it_." He cried, bringing his hand to his eyes as he rubbed them as if trying to scrub a picture in his mind. "Was it quick?" He finally looked at me. I stayed silent, closing my eyes as I shook my head, remembering what the doctor told Phil.

 _I want you to know that when your stepdaughter found her, there was nothing she could have done. There was nothing any of you could have done. Her brain had already lost oxygen causing permanent damage. Unfortunately, this probably went on for several minutes before she began the foaming. That is ultimately what killed her._

A vivid memory interrupted my thoughts, my mother's body twitching on the floor as foam puddled near her lips. I could still hear my screaming, my throat feeling sore at just the thought of it as I shook her, pulling her chin forward as her hazel eyes stared at me, glossed and red, already losing the life inside. I cleared my throat, willing the memory away as I stared at the floor, seeing the one clean spot I scrubbed amongst the other dirty floorboards.

"I had no idea. I didn't know she would do it ... _I didn't know_." He cried, his shoulders bouncing as he again covered his face. "This wasn't supposed to happen to her! It should have been me ... Jesus Christ, it should have been me." His wails became louder, his guilt consuming him to the point where he was having difficulty breathing. I imagined that was what it was like for her when she choked on the fluids in her throat. And I felt a twisted sense of satisfaction seeing him break down, despite me wanting to avoid it earlier. I felt dark at that moment, my mind battling with wanting to care for him and wanting him to feel every ounce of pain I had felt in the past few weeks when I lost her. "I loved her. I loved her so much." He confessed, shaking his head.

"Don't do that," I warned him, watching as he cried up at the ceiling, his arm over his eyes. I felt the darkness winning; the anger building up at his useless tears of remorse for my dead mother. _He loved her?_ I couldn't believe it ... I _wouldn't_ believe it. How can you willingly bring someone you love into a life like this? You can't. It's not possible. "Don't you dare say that. You didn't love her."

"I do." He sputtered between deep and agonizing breaths. "I love her with all my ..."

"Stop!" I cut him off, standing from the coffee table. "You don't get to say this shit to me, Charlie! You don't get to sit there and tell me you loved her. You let her walk out because you couldn't find one ounce of strength to quit. You let her leave _with_ me. And you promised me you would get better."

"Please ... Stop ..." His arm had fallen, the tears evident against his cheeks. "Please, _just stop_."

I moved, needing to distance myself from him because the anger pulsed in my skin like fire, like a live wire shooting through my veins. I couldn't be near him, I couldn't look at him. I was a flame, and he was gasoline; a dangerous mix. I moved to the other side of the living room near the fireplace, my foot kicking the poker that leaned against the brick, it clattering onto the hardwood floor, and echoing through the room.

"Fourteen fucking years, Charlie. Fourteen years and nothing but a stupid birthday card every September. You didn't call, you didn't visit ... You let us leave. You chose your addiction over us." I flexed my fingers before curling them back into fists, watching him from across the room as he continued to wipe at his eyes.

I couldn't believe the sincerity of his tears. "You wouldn't understand... You don't understand what it's like, how could you?" His voice was venomous now, on the defense at my accusatory words. And I laughed at him, an empty, hollow laugh that was coated with contempt for my own flesh and blood.

"You're right, I don't know. I guess I can count myself lucky for not falling into the same cycle as my parents." I paused, his eyes locked on mine. "I spent enough time cleaning up after you and her when I was a kid to know to stay away from that shit. You taught me well. And don't you ever ... _Ever_... Say her name again in front of me." I warned from across the room, his bloodshot eyes pleading for me to stop, but I couldn't. He engulfed me in the anger I had been harboring for weeks, his words striking a cord so deep inside of me that I wanted to start physically hurting him. "You don't deserve to talk about her ... A part of me even thought you didn't deserve to know. But I needed you to live with this guilt. I needed you to feel what I felt when I found her on the floor! Because it isn't fair that I'm the only one who feels it."

"You found ..."

"Don't ever tell me you love her again," I said through clenched teeth, stepping farther away. "I told you what I needed to tell you ... I'm leaving tomorrow, and I am _never_ coming back here. Do you understand me?" I asked as Charlie blinked at me, blindsided by my sudden outburst.

He was still crying, tears flowing freely against his red cheeks as he tried to comprehend the load of information I had provided him. I had no time to feel guilty, but I knew I would feel it later. _It was in my nature_ as my mother would tell me. But right now, all I could feel was the consuming rage that rattled me in a cage, riling me up to the point of explosion.

"You're right about one thing. It should have been you. It should have been you on the ground, suffocating and alone. And if I could, I would do anything... And I mean _anything_... to have it be you instead of her. It will _always_ be you who deserved to die."

With those final words, I parted from the living room despite his choking wails. I made my way upstairs and back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me as the old decor on the walls dropped to the floor from the vibration, glass shattering and skidding over the tile. I cursed at myself, at him, at everything that drove me to be in this godforsaken house in this godforsaken town. The tears were streaming hot down my face, and I wiped at them harshly, scolding myself for being so weak to someone like my father.

In a fit of rage, my hand hit a hanging shelf and small decorative pieces I remembered from when I lived here scattered onto the floor, the wooden slate splitting at the force as I felt a searing pain enter my palm. "Fuck!" I screamed, gripping my wrist as I noticed the splinter lodged into my skin. I walked to the sink, running the cold water over my hand and winced at the pain before concentrating on pulling the splinter out. It left my palm easily, but the cut opened with the force and blood began to drip. I felt myself become woozy before I closed my eyes, the cold water washing the red down the drain in a spiral. I counted backward from ten, willing myself to stay coherent as I began searching the medicine cabinet for Band-Aids with my free hand. It wasn't a surprise that Charlie didn't have any sort of first aid around, and I rolled up a piece of toilet paper after cleaning the wound, applying pressure to the cut.

The weight of the events from the night had piled enough on my shoulders that it pushed me down like a ton of bricks. Instead of fighting it, I allowed myself to fall to the floor and rest against the ceramic sink for support - the material cooling my body almost immediately. I could hear Charlie crying downstairs, and I silently joined him, the tears flowing freely as we shared our trials and tribulations even rooms apart. I could hear him saying her name. I could hear the agony in his voice as I matched it with the bitterness in my chest. I cradled my injured hand to my body, my back leaning against the toilet as I let myself fall apart on the bathroom floor.

With my free hand, I reached up and touched the gold bird pendant on my necklace and hoped I could find the strength to get myself until tomorrow ... until I could pack up what little I brought and put this all behind me to give me the chance to move on. My mother wasn't coming back. I had accepted it. I _needed_ to.

With the pendant between my fingers, my eyes had drifted close. I couldn't gauge how long I had been asleep, but it wasn't until I heard a door slam shut followed by loud steps outside that brought me to full conscientiousness. I craned my neck to the side, despite the searing pain of the odd angle in which I had fallen asleep, to look at the small window. It was still dark, only the specks of orange dusting the sky beyond the trees indicating it was close to sunrise. I found the strength to pull myself up, with the help of the sink, and wobbled to the window, wiping the dust clean to look out to the front yard of Charlie's house.

I could see a figure moving slowly to the driveway, lights blinking as a honk echoed in the early morning. I found the locks at the top of the window, unhinging them as I slid the glass up to see the door to the red truck opening, the figure dropping in and shutting it behind them. A bolt of adrenaline had washed through me, and I ran to the door, wrenching it open as I flew down the stairs noticing that the couch no longer had an occupant. An ignition turned just as I hit the front door, running out into the cold morning as I nearly tripped down the porch.

"Charlie!" I shouted as I saw him behind the wheel of the truck. "Charlie, stop!" My feet hit the grass just as he turned the wheel down the driveway and onto the road. My body ached from the sudden extension, but I didn't stop, and ran towards the road in an attempt to catch up to him. We had caught a glimpse of each other, and it was clear by the look on his face that he was determined to get to wherever he was heading too. I didn't stop, almost to the truck as he shifted into drive, the taillights glowing against my pale skin, dirt and debris spitting out from the tires as he hit the gas, flying down the road.

 _Shit_.

* * *

 _AN: Thank you for those who continue to support by adding me and this story to your favorites! Also, shout out to those who are reviewing! I appreciate your kind words and I write not only for myself but for you!_

 _If you were growing irritated of mistakes from the first two chapters, fear not - I now have a Beta! She has been so kind and generous and believed in this story enough to extend her assistance. So, shout out to Fran (SunflowerFran) and make sure to head over to her profile to look at the other stories she has Beta'd!_

 _Music is a big part of the making of Obstacles and I already have a playlist on my phone for every song I will be using as an inspiration for each chapter. I listen to these songs as I write and they are the key when it comes to the angst of this story. If you are interested, I recommend heading over to youtube to listen to this song as well as the song from chapter two to get the full experience of each chapter._

 _Thank you again for reading, please let me know your thoughts and opinions in the review section!_

 _Until next week ..._

 _\- ii_


	4. Pendulum

_Chapter Song - Hard on Myself by Hemming_

 _"And I've been living life like a pendulum_  
 _Swinging side to side, never moving on_  
 _And I've been stuck inside this place so long_  
 _I forget my life and where I came from_  
 _But i know you said let go, I've been_  
 _So hard on myself for so long."_

* * *

8:01 am.

Charlie had been missing for two hours.

I lost count at how many times I had been up and down the main roads of Forks, down alleys and into housing complexes. I had passed Masen's a dozen times to ensure the truck wasn't parked in the lot, and even knocked a few times on the closed door in hopes either Emmett or Jasper were there. But the bar was closed up and locked with no indication of someone inside; my hopes of having some type of idea of where Charlie could have gone were diminished in the cold September morning.

Forks was a small town and the fact that I hadn't found him yet, even in two hours, made me realize that he was not here.

 _But where had he gone?_

In the first hour, I went back and forth on whether or not to call the police. It wasn't Charlie I was worried about, it was the other drivers, the pedestrians, even the wildlife crossing the road. My conscience eventually outweighed my hesitation, and I knew if I didn't report it and Charlie did end up hurting someone ... I wasn't sure if I could live with that. So I called the police, reported the make and color of the truck and advised the driver was intoxicated. When they asked my name, they were able to put two and two together.

 _Is Charlie Swan your father?_

Of course, the police knew him. He used to be the Chief, but there were plenty of times he was locked up for public intoxication or driving under the influence. The man on the phone laughed, and I had the urge to hang up on him, my anger on a short fuse.

I drove around Forks one last time before I gave up my search and decided to head to the house in hopes he would find his way back. As a last precaution, I stopped by Masen's one more time, pulling into the parking lot with no sign of the red truck. I leaned back into my seat to take a deep breath, my fingertips rubbing against my temple as I coaxed myself out of an emotional breakdown due to exhaustion. The sun was nearly up, but the dark clouds had rolled over the sky indicating rain.

 _What else was new?_

In my peripheral, I had caught a glimpse of something shiny. My head rose from my hands as I looked across the lot at the silver Volvo diagonal from me and next to it was a pearly white BMW. I had been to Masen's several times when looking for Charlie, and this was the first time I saw either of those cars. A moment of hope flared inside of me, and I wondered if Emmett was here preparing for opening just like he was yesterday. While I knew those who worked here were not necessarily close with Charlie, they knew him more than I did. They were my best chance at tracking him down.

I reached the door in a matter of seconds, knocking a few times before leaning towards the window to peek inside. The bar was dark, the chairs stacked up on the tables just like they had been yesterday. I was met with silence on the other side, my fist still knocking as I shouted out a few names. Thunder had clapped above me, my chin lifting up to feel the first of small raindrops staining my skin. The hope I had in my chest dwindling and disappearing into nothingness.

From the side of me, a door right next to Masen's had shoved open with a hard _thwack,_ and a woman in black heels stomped out, the expression on her face looking as if she could turn you to stone. She wore a tight, long sleeve t-shirt that cropped just above her navel with a pair of dark, skin-tight leggings to match. Her blonde curls framed her face, her icy blue eyes red and watering as she huffed her way towards me.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" The woman growled under her breath, her eyes shooting daggers at me as she walked by and headed towards the parked cars, jumping into the BMW, slamming the door shut. _Sheesh_. Someone had royally pissed her off. I had stepped back and away from the door, a sound above me catching my attention. Another floor sat on top of Masen's, and if I had to guess, the door the woman stormed out of led to the top of it. I saw a figure close a window, it moving behind the curtains as thunder began to clap, raindrops pelting down and drenching everyone caught in it.

xx

The red truck was still missing from the driveway when I showed up back to the house. I felt defeated, angry, and cold from the rain that had covered me from head to toe. I immediately opted for a warm shower, thankful I had taken my suitcase with me in my car rather than leave it at the motel. I changed into a pair of leggings and a long sweatshirt that was tattered across the bottom. My body begged me to sleep, but my mind was still racing with the possibilities of what Charlie could get himself into. I tried to block it out, tried to reason with the voice in my head that I had done everything I could have to try and find him. But the voice kept going and the sleep never came. Instead, I walked around the house and reminisced about when I was younger.

Throughout the years spent with two deeply addicted parents, there were still some memories that I was rather fond of ... one of them being on the white panel between the kitchen and the dining room. It was a height chart starting from when I was fourteen months old all the way until I was nine. I could still feel the crease of the pencil marks with every milestone and growth.

I had made my way up to my old bedroom, noticing that Charlie had not done a single thing with it. The small twin bed still sat in the corner just next to my white bedside table with a pink lamp that was missing a light bulb. A toy chest sat across near my closet, and I spent some time rummaging through it to find the things I cherished the most as a kid. I wondered why my mother left this stuff behind when she took us to Phoenix.

I had even found my old Raggedy Ann doll, pulling it from the chest as a smile littered my lips. The years of neglect had been unkind to her; the white apron had turned yellow, and one black, plastic eyeball was missing from her head. I remember taking her everywhere with me ... around the house, to school, even to the grocery store when we got the chance to go. I had great memories with her ... having a tea party on a makeshift cardboard table I had put together, making believe we were royalty having afternoon brunch. I also had unpleasant memories with her ... when I would hold onto her tightly when Mom was getting sick in the bathroom across the hall, or when Charlie was drinking down in the living room and yelling at no one in particular.

After I found her, I laid myself down in my old bed, brushing the string of red hair back, as it reminded me of a comfort I hadn't felt in such a long time. It wasn't long before that comfort put me to sleep and only until I heard tires on pavement and a knock on the front door that I jolted myself away, flying off the bed and running down the stairs to the door as I shoved it open.

"Charlie!" I said, stopping immediately when I realized it wasn't him. The stranger's back was towards me as I opened the door and he twisted rather quickly when he heard, his eyes widening as if he hadn't expected my voice. He was young, maybe a few years older than I was, and he wore dark jeans, a dark gray V-neck and a black jacket layered on top. He had copper hair peeking out from underneath his Yankee's baseball cap and jade eyes that revealed specks of yellow-gold around his irises.

He cleared his throat when I realized I was staring, his eyes scanning over me to stop just near my stomach. I looked down, noticing I still had my doll in my hands and I quickly brought my arm behind my back.

"Can I help you?" I asked, his jade eyes watched me closely before glancing over my head, his eyebrows rising as he looked back at me with sheer curiosity. He hesitated as well, taking in my appearance just as I had done to him, and I cleared my throat, just as he had done to me.

"I'm sorry to bother you; I didn't realize Charlie had company." He said, looking back into the driveway to realize that the truck was not there.

"I'm his daughter," I said flatly, watching his eyes grow wide.

"Daughter?" He blanched, "I didn't know he had a daughter. Does _he_ know he has a daughter?" He asked with eyebrows raised, and I nodded my head, wondering why this was the second time someone had asked me this question.

"Can I help you with something?" I asked, growing irritated.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ... _Shit_... I'm Edward." He said, reaching his hand out to me. I hesitated, reaching my hand out as I took his in mine. He was warm, and he had a smile to match it, his fingers sliding down my palm as we let go, leaving tingles in their wake.

"Bella." I said, "You know my father?"

"Yeah ... I check in on him from time to time just to make sure he's staying out of trouble."

"You are a few hours too late." I admitted, "He left early this morning in his truck and was heavily intoxicated."

"Damn," With one hand he grabbed his cap, pulling it off to show the disarray of copper hair as his slim pale fingers ran through it, matting it down before he tugged. "Did you look for him?"

"Of course I did," I deadpanned, scrunching my nose at his accusation as if I didn't even try.

"I didn't mean it ... Fuck, where all did you look?" He asked, his stance bouncing from foot to foot, his expression tangled with worry and confusion. I had wondered briefly about this stranger ... this person who seemed to be the only one in this town I had seen so far show any kind of sentimental or concerning feeling towards Charlie. It was ... Strange.

"I went around town several times and for several hours. He doesn't have his cell phone on him, so I called the police and ..."

"You called the police! On your own father?" He growled, catching me off guard with his accusatory tone. His concerning eyes had turned into fury, his nose flaring with annoyance that had set a quick match to my own fuse.

"He was drunk; of course, I'm going to call the police! He could hurt someone! I'm not going to protect him just because he's my father." I reflected his icy tone, my eyes blazing with fury at the way he had spoken to me.

 _Who the hell did this guy think he was?_

Edward turned away from me, stepping down and off the porch to take in a deep breath, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. His foot started to tap, his free hand gripping the metal railing as he squeezed ... lost in deep thought.

"Did you check the community center?" He asked, turning to me.

"No. I didn't know to look there." I said with a shrug, apparently clueless on where my father likes to hang out.

Despite his attitude and accusatory tone towards me, I could see the worry lining his face. I wanted to question him, ask him who he was and how he knew my father, but better yet, why he cared so much when everyone else in this town clearly didn't. But Edward reached down into his pocket to look at his phone and noticed the time, a thought clearly passing his mind as he looked up to me, his green eyes softening, causing an unknown feeling to wash over my skin creating an almost relaxing state of mind. I hesitated at the notion, feeling very vulnerable in front of him when I had myself so extremely closed off since my mother had passed. But Edward didn't seem to notice, and he shoved his phone back into his pocket, heading down the porch as he called out behind him.

"I think I know where he is."

xx

Minutes later, I stepped out of the car, blindly following this man ... Edward into the community center.

 _I think I know where he is._

It was the last thing he said before he turned on his heels, giving me the cold shoulder as I asked him to elaborate. I didn't hesitate to jump in my car and tail him once he left, and I could tell by his annoyed expression as we neared the center that he didn't anticipate me to do so.

The community center was built years ago with the intention of the people of Forks coming together to interact and work as one to better their town. It was rarely used; a few classes for the older generation, a basketball league for at-risk youth and from time to time, AA meetings. The building was made up of red logs with a tin roof and two glass doors on either side of the building. I followed Edward blindly, putting some sort of unknown trust in the stranger who may be able to help me find Charlie. He seemed to ignore my questions.

"What are we doing here?" I asked, turning to Edward who had disappeared into a back room. I ignored the annoyance I felt over the silence and walked into the main hallway noticing a few signs promoting the activities the community center held, one of them for AA .

 _AA Meeting, Every Tuesday & Thursday 1pm-2pm_.

I looked back to the sign, my nose scrunching as I tried to entertain the idea of Charlie going to an AA meeting. I shook my head ... the suggestion nearly laughable especially after spending a night with him breaking down with the help of his favorite poison. I followed another set of doors, walking into the main communal room where I noticed ten chairs in the middle, set up in a circle. The walls were painted a soft blue, a large cork board adorning the back walls as motivational posts hung from tape around the room.

 _It always seems impossible until it is done._

 _Strength doesn't come from what you can do._

 _It comes from overcoming the things you once thought you couldn't. The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are._

Charlie would laugh at these signs. He'd give some crappy response to them like _it seems impossible to inhale ten shots of whiskey, but it's done._ I continued to look around the room, my hands shoved deep into my pockets to find the warmth from the dampness of the rain.

"He's not here," Edward said frustrated. I turned to him, watching as he kicked one of the chairs from the circle, his palms coming up to scrub over his face. I stayed silent, sucking in my bottom lip as he muttered an apology at his outburst. I waved him off as I pushed the kicked chair back into the inner circle. I brought my arms across my chest as I glanced around the room once more, noticing Edward furiously typing at his cell phone from across from me.

"Are you Charlie's mentor or something?" I broke the silence as he finished his text, sliding his phone into his back pocket.

" _Something_." He responded.

"Is it some kind of twisted version of a _Big Brother_ program?" A laugh left me and his green eyes met mine immediately, a crease forming in-between his eyebrows indicating annoyance. I pressed my lips into a hard line just as his phone chimed in his pocket, breaking our contact immediately to answer it.

"Hey." He said, turning to shield his conversation.

I let out a breath of air at the tension that continued to pile between us as I sat myself down in one of the chairs in the circle. I watched as Edward paced near the door, whispering intensely into his cell phone. I looked away, concentrating on the area around me as I tried my best not to pry.

"When was the last time he was there?" I heard him ask as it was followed by a heavy silence. Moments had passed until I suddenly felt eyes on me, my head tilting up with hesitation. Whatever the person on the other line had said had obviously confused him, his gaze searching mine with a peculiar look until he turned again and continued his conversation.

Despite the anxiety I felt at wanting to avoid digging myself deeper into this town, I couldn't help the curiosity that brewed over Edward. Forks wasn't known for a younger population and most in their mid-twenties who grew up here would flee to somewhere like Portland or Seattle.

 _So what was he doing here?_

However, there was no doubt the biggest curiosity of them all was his relationship with Charlie. It was clear he knew him on a personal level but what was the extent of that? And why was he so set on helping a man who clearly did not want to be helped?

Lost in my thoughts, I had realized I was staring. I looked away, gazing at the empty white chair just across from me. My brain tried to conjure up the image of Charlie sitting there, listening to others who share their story of their addictions. I even tried to imagine him telling his own, recalling his time with Renee and how it drove us out of town. But my brain couldn't process the picture of him and I realized that the whole concept seemed inconceivable.

In my daydreaming, I hadn't even realized Edward had finished his phone call. He was across from me now behind one of the chairs as his palms gripped the back of it and his head hung low. I felt a sense of pity for him as it was clear he was trying to help Charlie but in this moment felt powerless. But, that is what Charlie was good at. He sucked any energy you had and left you there feeling defeated and worn.

"Does he come here often?" I asked, cutting the tense silence. Edward hesitated, his head lifting only slightly to indicate that he had heard me. I noticed his body tensing, a soft breath of air leaving his lips as he contemplated on his answer.

"Only when he hits bottom." He answered, lifting one arm to rub the back of his neck. I didn't need him to indicate any further ... I knew he meant _rock_ bottom. "It's not often, but it happens."

"And he comes to AA?" I asked, looking back at him as he nods. I let out a small laugh, shaking my head at the thought of it. Edward looked at me confused and annoyed by my misplaced laughter. "I just don't know if I can picture those two things together. Charlie and AA."

"Why is that so hard to believe?" He asked.

"If you knew my father ..."

"I know your father." He said matter-of-factly. I zeroed in on him, letting out a hollow laugh as I shook my head.

"You don't know him."

"What makes you so sure? You say you're his daughter, but I've known Charlie for years, sometimes seeing him multiple times in a day and yet I have never met you before. When was the last time you've visited him?" He accused, his eyes narrowing. "Charlie has mentioned he has distant family, but he never mentioned a daughter ... or a wife at that."

 _Wife._

He didn't know, he couldn't have possibly known. But that didn't stop the all-consuming anger that bolted in my body like a lightning strike. He didn't know about Renee, about what Charlie did, and how he was when I was younger. He didn't know about him spending the night in jail when I was born, or when he forgot to pick me up from school because he was passed out in some shady, neighborhood after doing several lines of cocaine. He didn't know about me walking myself to school when my parents were passed out in a drunken stupor, or when Renee got clean and left with me. He didn't know about her dying from the overdose or Charlie breaking down last night. He didn't know. But I still hated him for it.

"You were with him at the bar last night?" His question cut my thoughts, my eyes flickering to his.

"How do you ... "

"You took him home ... Did you stay there?" He asked, cutting me off. I stood from my chair, my arms crossing defensively over my chest.

"What are you insinuating?" I snapped.

"Did you not think to hide the keys?" His tone was acid, burning so deep in my skin that I felt my head go dizzy. "Shit, you could have locked him in his goddamn room."

"Are you ..." I paused, a laugh escaping my lips as I shook my head. "Are you blaming me for this?" I seethed as Edward shrugged immediately. "You are seriously blaming me for a decision a grown man made?"

"You are telling me you know your father, you know the addiction ..."

"You've got to be kidding me," I let out another breathy laugh, turning around as I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging in frustration as I whipped back to him. "This is _his_ addiction. Not mine. And not that it is any of your business but I haven't seen him in fourteen years! I didn't know he would even be able to make it to the car!"

"So, then you _don't_ know him." He pointed out matter-of-factly. "You haven't seen him in fourteen years so you have no idea what he is capable of or what he does when he gets like this."

"You think you know my father more than me because you ... _what?_ ... You look after him from time to time?" My voice trembled not from fear but _blinding_ rage. "I don't know how Charlie roped you into that gig, and I hate to break it to you, but you got screwed. Charlie has been an addict my whole life, even when I lived here over fourteen years ago. You don't know me, you don't know what I have been through, and you have no right to accuse me of not being here with him."

"I'm just ..."

"No, you don't get to say _anything_. I don't care if you think you're being charitable or if you hope that maybe one day he'll turn a new leaf because I am here to tell you it won't happen." I seethed. He watched me, his expression curious at my outburst, which pissed me off even more. "You don't know me," I repeated. "You don't know what I went through with him my whole life or even last night when he was puking all over the floor. So don't sit here and act all mighty to make me feel bad. You don't know _anything_."

The room grew silent except for the vibration of thunder outside of these walls. Edward didn't mutter a word, contemplating on my speech as his eyes raked over me. Once again, I felt exposed. I felt vulnerable to this stranger, and I hated it. But before we could say anything, before another word was uttered, my cell phone started to ring. I turned away, pulling it out of my pocket, reading the unknown number. My hands trembled as I pushed the green button, bringing the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Bella Swan?" A deep voice came through as I muttered a _yes_. "This is Deputy Peter from the Forks law enforcement. We found your father, and he is being transferred to the hospital."

* * *

 _AN: He's finally here, so what do you think?_

 _A shout out to my beta, Fran! Thank you for supporting me and cleaning up my messy chapters! You are much appreciated!_

 _Another shout out to my reader, Tarbecca! She recommended Obstacles at A Different Forest! Thank you!_

 _And thank you for my readers, those who continue every week even when some of the material is a little overwhelming. Your follows, favorites and comments keep me going in telling this story._

 _Please let me know what you think of this chapter._

 _See you next week ..._

 _\- ii_


	5. Stay

Chapter Song - Into the Black by Chromatics (Original by Neil Young)

Out of the blue and into the black,  
They give you this, but you pay for that.  
But once you're gone, you can never come back.  
When you're out of the blue and into the black.

* * *

I hastily made my way down the hospital hallway, passing the rooms and counting the numbers until I reached the one the nurse had directed me to.

I gripped my torso protectively, halting just outside of the room. I noticed the door was already open, the TV playing a baseball game. In the corner, Charlie laid on his bed with his eyes closed. I halted my steps, looking over to take in his appearance. His long, greasy hair was slicked back, his cheek still bruised from his fall at the bar last night. However, there were new scrapes along his jaw and nose. Both of his arms were preoccupied ... His right was cast in a black sling that rested on his stomach. His left was up against the bar of the bed, handcuffed at the wrist.

" _Renee_."

My eyes immediately swung up, my senses on high alert at the sound of her name. I felt a surge of annoyance, just as I had felt last night when he brought her up. It wasn't as prominent as his current situation made me feel at least a little pity for him, but it was still there. It was clear that between Charlie and I, Mom was a very touchy subject. I moved myself from my spot, getting close enough as I tapped his leg to pull him from his sleep. Charlie only groaned, scrunching his nose as he attempted to move his body but found it difficult in both a sling and handcuffs.

"Charlie, wake up," I said, tapping harder. His eyes flew open, his pupils were large, and the white was red. _He was still drunk_.

"Bells?" His voice was scratchy, his eyes blinking as if he saw a ghost. He tried to lift his left hand but was stopped instantly by the cuff. His head turning instantly as he let out a loud groan, sitting back into his bed and feeling defeated. " _Shit_. I was hoping I dreamt all of last night."

"How do you feel?" I asked, smoothing down the blanket around him.

"Like I ran into a ditch." He said with an empty chuckle as I shot him a glare. When I arrived at the hospital, the nurse had told me that Charlie was found by pedestrians who had noticed his truck in a ditch on the outskirts of Main Street. They called an ambulance immediately, and Charlie had been picked up, but his truck had undergone irreversible damage. She had told me it wasn't as bad as it could have been, not that I wasn't already aware of the fact. Millions of different scenarios _could_ have happened, and I was only glad that this particular one did. "How's the truck?" He asked.

"I'm not sure. I don't think it looks good." I answered honestly, watching as Charlie looked up at the ceiling, closing his eyes as a deep breath of air left his lips.

" _Shit_." He said again, "I need you to call Billy Black for me."

"Why?"

"Because his son, you know him - Jacob? You two used to make mud pies in the front yard when you were kids... He's a cop here, and I'm in a bit of a situation." He finished as he moved his wrist, the metal of the cuffs clinking against the bed frame.

I took a moment to reflect on my memories of Jake … He had been more than just a mud pie making buddy. We were the best of friends before Renee left with me. The last time I saw him we were playing in the backyard, Renee was at work, and Charlie was asleep in bed. I remember taking turns and pushing each other on the tire swing, giggling when Jake lost his footing and fell right on his ass in the pile of mud. When I was with him, I didn't think about the issues going on inside of my home. We stayed outside, used our imagination and dreamt ourselves into another exciting life full of adventures far away from our realities.

But we were kids. And everything had changed now.

"You haven't even heard what they had to say. You're always jumping two steps ahead before anything even happens." I said to him, crossing my arms back over my front.

"Bella, even you know this doesn't look good." He started as he tried to sit up, the handcuff stopping him mid-way. He tugged a little, as if it was going to help, growling again in frustration as he closed his eyes tightly, "I crashed my truck, and if they breathalyzed me right now, I'd be screwed." He huffed, shaking his head at me as if _I_ were the idiotic one.

"Maybe it will do you some good to spend time somewhere other than Masen's," I suggested, raising a brow. "Force you down the path you need to take."

"I've spent my time in a jail cell, before. And I promise you, nothing makes you want a drink more than wasting away behind bars while someone watches you take a piss." He said, looking back to me. "There is no path I need to go down except for the shortcut out of the shit hole I'm in."

 _Charlie Shortcut Swan._

"One that you dug yourself when you got into the truck last night." I sneered.

"Please don't start, Bella." He pleaded as he shook his head.

"What were you thinking?" I asked him, knowing the question was futile. Just like in the old, Charlie Swan fashion, he had no answer for me. He wasn't thinking. When he drinks so heavily, he gets past the point of no return and finds himself losing all control... Not one thought passed through his head. Not that it would have mattered much anyway; the small guilty conscience he did have would be heavily outweighed by his addiction. I didn't accept how he was, I just knew better than trying to change him. "You could have been killed. You _could_ have killed someone."

"I don't need a lecture from my kid." He growled.

"Then stop acting like one!" My voice was louder than intended, but before Charlie could respond, someone had cleared their throat behind me. We both swiveled our gaze to the open doorway, seeing a tall man in a white coat entered the room. He was pale, but his smile was warm, which accompanied his bright blue eyes. He walked in with confidence, his clipboard in his hands as he looked between Charlie and me.

"Dr. Cullen," Charlie said, and I recognized the name immediately. I had wondered if Dr. Cullen was related at all to Emmett Cullen, who I had met just the other day at Masen's.

"Charlie, it's always a pleasure." He said with a soft smile as Charlie rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't believe we have met?" He turned his attention towards me, reaching his hand out in my direction.

"Bella," I said, placing my palm into his cold one. "I'm Charlie's daughter."

"Daughter?" He asked, looking back to the bed as Charlie nodded. "I wasn't aware you had a daughter, Charlie. Are you keeping things from us?" He asked playfully with a smile as he looked down to the charts in his hand.

"We just ... Rekindled ..." Charlie said awkwardly as he tried to find the right word. "It's been a few years."

"Well, I'm sure you are glad to have her. Hopefully, she will be an asset to you because you've got a few weeks in that." He gestured at the sling just before Charlie let out an audible huff, his head dropping back onto his pillow. "And because that is your dominant arm, it will make it difficult to do your day-to-day routine. You've fractured your radius, but luckily, it's not severe enough for surgery. We will have to put a cast on it, and I recommend for the first few weeks that you still utilize the sling."

"So, you are saying he is going to need assistance for the next few weeks?" I asked as Dr. Cullen turned towards me with a nod.

"In these types of situations, I suggest a family member or close friend stay nearby to help. However, it is not necessary. It just makes it easier for the patient if someone is there to lend a hand." He said as I took in a deep breath, feeling the same pit in my stomach I've felt since entering this town the other day grow bigger and bigger. "Your arm will hurt as it is healing, so you will want to keep stock on over the counter medications such as ibuprofen."

"Nothing stronger than that?" Charlie asked with a raised brown as Dr. Cullen only smiled, shaking his head.

"Not for you, Swan. I think you have enough vices as it is, let's not add to the list." He said, jotting a few notes down on his clipboard before moving closer to Charlie, providing him his full attention. "However, this fracture is not what I am worried about." He began, looking up to me with a somber expression before turning back to Charlie with a fixed stare. "Charlie, the blood work we took when you arrived returned and your liver enzyme levels were off the chart." He began as Charlie scoffed, shaking his head.

"I've been hearing that for years." He said simply, brushing off the severity of Dr. Cullen's warning.

"What does that mean exactly?" I interjected.

"It means that if I did further tests, I'm sure we would find significant damage to the liver and the start of liver disease." Dr. Cullen said as Charlie rolled his eyes. My head felt dizzy at the words, my fingers absentmindedly grabbing the bird pendant on my chest. _Liver disease_. I wasn't surprised by his suggestion, but the words rattled in my brain as I tried to comprehend what Charlie's life would be like after that diagnosis. I knew enough about it to understand the severity, but I'm not sure if that would make a difference to Charlie.

And in that split moment, I became increasingly aware of my roots digging deeper and deeper into Forks.

"I've also been hearing _that_ for years." Charlie huffed, shaking his head.

" _Charlie_." I hissed, "This is serious."

"Bella, every doctor who has come in and out of this hospital has told me I'm on my way to my grave. And every time they tell me, they say I only have a few years left. And after a few years, I'm always here still kicking it." He made a point at that moment to avoid eye contact with me, clearing his throat as he looked back to Dr. Cullen who began to speak.

"That may be true, Charlie. And it is possible with a significant amount of drinking, you could have somewhat built a resistance to the alcohol. But it would only be for so long. This was inevitable. And I am afraid that the disease may have already started. But with further tests, I can get you on the right -"

"No." Charlie interrupted.

"No?" I balked, looking back at Charlie. "What do you mean _no_?"

"I mean exactly what I said. I don't want tests. I don't want needles. I don't want pills. I want nothin' of it. I just want out of here." He said, resisting against the cuff around his wrist. Dr. Cullen's face turned downward, but he knew he couldn't push it. His eyes flashed to mine, sparing me a sympathetic look. He knew Charlie wouldn't give up his addiction and it was only a matter of time before it killed him. And while the bigger part of me knew that no matter how hard I fought it, Charlie would never change. But I _needed_ to try. I needed to do something.

"Charlie, you're being ridiculous. If this is the early stages, then you can beat it with the right medication..."

"Bella, drop it." Charlie's gaze pointed directly at me, the look telling me to shut my mouth. I glared back at him, crossing my arms as Charlie looked back at Dr. Cullen. "No tests."

"Okay." Dr. Cullen said as my eyes widened, dumbfounded that he conceded to Charlie so easily. "Try to at least slow down on the drinking, Charlie. Maybe it will save you a few years."

"Sure thing, Doc." Charlie smiled as he lied through his teeth. I felt the anger grip every nerve in my body, and I tried my best to compartmentalize it, to accept what he was saying and cave in like everyone else. But I just knew that I couldn't do it, and I would never do it. Not after everything that happened with Mom. I didn't get a chance to save her, and even if Charlie didn't deserve it, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to stand losing both of them in such a short period of time.

"Charlie, I know where you stand on this. But if you change your mind, call me. You've got my number." Dr. Cullen said as Charlie nodded at him. He gave me one more half smile as if to wish me luck before he exited the room. I sat down in the chair next to the bed, scrubbing over my face as I absorbed the news we just received. My right hand gripped on the arm of the chair as the other rubbed at my raw eyes, my body feeling weighed down with the copious amount of stress piling onto my shoulders. I felt like my energy had been sucked right from my body, leaving nothing but a hollow shell in its place.

"Don't let this change your mind." Charlie's voice broke through the silence, and I dropped my hand to look at him, my sight fuzzy but clear enough to see his dark eyes on mine.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, sitting up in my chair.

"Last night." His head turned, his eyes now to the ceiling as he swallowed a gulp, his Adam's apple moving with the motion. "You said you were leaving and never coming back. Don't let _this_ stop you. It's not worth it." He paused, moving awkward before continuing, " _I'm_ not worth it."

His sudden candor and vulnerability had pulled me from the thoughts and anxiety that festered inside of me. At that moment with Charlie, I immediately felt _sorrow_ for him. It was an unknown emotion to feel with my father, it seemed foreign and awkward as I tried to absorb it, tried to react the best way I could to his openness to me.

I shifted in my chair, watching as his eyes never met mine and always stayed glued to the ceiling. It was clear he didn't want to have this conversation; didn't want to be this open and exposed. And I suppose in a way, that was how we were alike. Afraid to show emotion, afraid to let it all come out in fear we would be persecuted and judged for it. At that moment, I felt more like my father than I ever have. And so, I tried to meet him in the middle, tried to show the same emotion he was showing me because maybe it would help, maybe it would get him on my side to help himself.

"Charlie, I –" I began but was immediately cut off by a knock on the door, our eyes turning to see a familiar face.

Jacob Black stood in the doorway donned in a Forks' Police uniform, his long black hair pulled in a low ponytail behind him as his dark skin matched the dark irises in his eyes. Of course, he looked different. He was taller and bulkier than I had remembered when we were kids making mud pies in the front yard, but his face was what gave him away. He still kept his button nose and the scar on his jaw, and I noticed he was taking me in just as much as I was to him.

"Hey, Jake. I was just talking about you." Charlie said, "Who reached out to you?" Jacob lifted his phone, indicating someone had called him.

"Cullen." He said, my eyebrows furrowing as I looked back to Charlie, wondering why Dr. Cullen would have called Jacob Black. "Bella, right?" Jacob asked as I turned back to him with a nod, staying seated in my chair.

"Yeah. Hey, Jake. How are you?" I asked with a warm smile.

"I'm good. Shit, it's been awhile. Ten years?" He questioned.

"Fourteen," I said as his eyes widened, letting out a breath of air.

"Wow. I can't believe it. Seems just like yesterday we were running around in the backyard and swinging on that old dirty tire in your backyard." He laughed as I nodded, recalling the memory. "How's your mom doing?"

The moment the words left his lips, I felt my pit weighing down in my stomach. I immediately felt sick, my eyes blurring as I gripped the chair to keep me still. Charlie felt it too, his eyes closing as he scrubbed his face. I knew it was bound to happen eventually. Someone other than Charlie would ask about her. I prepared myself for this exact situation and trained myself not to break down.

My instincts were reacting; the sadness that I tried to suppress was getting ready to flood like a dam breaking open. I knew I didn't want to lie, I'd say something very generic such as _she_ _passed away a few weeks ago. She came down with an illness. She died, but we're doing fine._ But before I could say anything, before I could either tell the truth or lie to spare that dreadful conversation, Charlie interjected.

"Jake, how bad is this looking?" He said stiffly as Jake looked between the two of us, trying to gauge the similar reaction we had to his question. By some sort of miracle, he didn't push the subject. Instead, he drifted his attention towards my father and walked to the side of the bed, pulling out a key before unlocking the cuff.

"Wait, what's happening?" I asked as Charlie brought his wrist to his chest, rubbing it soothingly.

"I'm saving your father's ass … Again. Seriously, Charlie, you can't keep doing this shit. I'm going to start getting in trouble with the Chief." Jake warned as Charlie let out a hearty laugh, giving him a coy smile.

"You can tell your Chief that he can bite my ass." He smirked as Jake rolled his eyes and I stood, standing at the opposite side of the bed.

"So that's it? He's off the hook?" I asked as Jake looked up to me, his expression perplexed by my words.

"He's going to have to lay low for a while. That means no going to Masen's and getting into a fight." Jake raised a brow to Charlie who began to speak until Jake lifted his hand. "Yeah, I talked to Paul. You're lucky he didn't kill you, Swan."

Charlie chuckled, "I'd like to see him try."

I felt an overwhelming sense of anger, the annoyance setting deep into my bones as Charlie had, yet again, found himself a shortcut out of his problems. Of course, I didn't want Charlie getting in trouble. I didn't want any of that. But if there was even a sliver of hope, a small whimsical moment of optimism that his consequences could help him out of the addiction he was in, then maybe it would be worth it.

"I gotta head out for my shift." Jake began, interrupting my thoughts. "I'm serious, Swan. You better fly under the radar. I don't know how much longer I can help you."

"Yeah, yeah. Tell your old man I said hey." Charlie gave him a half smile as Jake rolled his eyes, turning his attention towards me.

"It was nice to see you, Bella." He said.

"You too, Jake."

"How long are you staying in town?" He asked as I looked back to Charlie who immediately avoided eye contact. I didn't dwell on it too much and looked back to Jake and shrugged. "Well, I'd love to see you again before you go. Catch up for old times' sake."

"Yeah, absolutely," I said with a nod. "I'll call you."

Jake smiled, a wide and toothy smile that made me laugh. He said nothing else and left us with a nod, making his exit from the room. I turned to Charlie who was staring at me, his dark eyes matching mine as the muscles in his left arm twitched, a very faint smile playing at his lips.

"Don't look at me like that," I said, taking my place back in my seat. Charlie's grin was gone in an instant, and he huffed, clearing his throat.

"Do you know … " He paused, hesitating on the question stuck in his throat. "I mean, do you have any idea … How long you'll stay?" He finished, and I hesitated for a moment, giving him a simple shrug.

"Someone has to take care of you while you are crippled," I said as Charlie rolled his eyes. "And God knows you've managed to piss everyone off in this town to not give a damn about you besides a select few," I said as he nodded in agreement, a playful smile at his lips. "I did meet someone … " I began, looking over as his eyes met mine. "Edward?"

"Cullen?" He asked.

"Cullen?" I repeated as a question. "As in related to Dr. Cullen?"

"Yeah. Carlisle's his uncle. He's got a few cousins around here too. Carlisle's kids... Alice and Emmett." Charlie asked as the dots started to connect together, like a puzzle completed by a missing piece. I unfolded my legs from underneath me, my body going rigid as an unanswered question filtered through my mind. I recalled my meeting with Emmett the first day I showed up in Forks and ended up at Masen's and asking if he was the one who owned the bar.

 _My cousin owns Masen's. And the only reason he does is that he took it over after his father. I told him to sell it for what it is worth, but he kept it for sentimental reasons._

"Does Edward own Masen's?" I asked as Charlie looked at me, nodding his head.

 _Asshole._

Once again, I felt the anger boiling inside of me like lava. A pounding in my ear nearly clouded my vision as I gripped onto the chair, squeezing it with as much rage as I could. My heart was pumping, the blood pulsing through my skin like a live wire and lighting every pore on fire. Charlie had said my name, but I ignored him, trying to wrap my brain over the identity of the man who had just made me feel guilty for allowing Charlie to leave last night. He sat there, accused me of not being aware, of not paying closer attention to him when he was the one supplying the drinks.

As I continued to process the information, nurses came in to start the casting Charlie's arm. I allowed myself a moment to cool down, leaving the room as they tended to my father. While my rage was settling, I still felt the fire in my soul. I had put two and two together and realized that when Jake came in, it wasn't Dr. Cullen who had called him, but it was Edward. It was Edward who owned the bar that catered to his addiction, it was Edward who came and checked on him to make sure he hadn't killed himself, and it was Edward who made the calls to get him out of trouble. Edward was the missing puzzle piece. He was the enabler to Charlie's problem. There was no accountability when Edward was involved. Charlie was able to do whatever he wanted, and that pissed me off to no end.

For someone who had a lot of things to say about how I handled my father, it was clear that he had the worst intentions for him.

When Charlie's cast was done, the nurse came and got me for the discharge. They went over with us the do's and don'ts of arm casts and what to expect in the next six weeks of him having it. I jotted everything down while Charlie drowned it out, saying things to move the process along such as ' _Yeah … Okay … Sure ... I get it … No Problem …_ '

When the hospital discharged him, we left immediately and headed into the parking lot towards my car. I had felt my back pocket vibrate and pulled my phone out to see a call coming through. _Phil_. I felt a sense of dread, the pit in my stomach rolling as I tried to imagine the conversation with him about my extended stay in Forks. For the time being, I did the worst thing and avoided it. I ignored the call, setting my phone back in my pocket as we neared my car. As I pulled my keys out, I noticed a familiar color auburn hair in my peripheral. I turned at the sound of someone calling Charlie's name, and I zeroed in on Edward who made his way towards us. My hands briefly clenched, my keys in my palm creating indentions in my skin as he got closer to us.

"Hey, Charlie," Edward said as he stepped into our vicinity.

"What are you doing here, Edward?" Charlie asked, glancing between the two of us in a slight state of panic.

"I stopped by your house to check in on you, that's when I ran into your _daughter_." He made a point to emphasize the last word as if it meant something to him. The energy had dissipated from anger to awkward. These two definitely had a type of relationship I was not aware of, and my curiosity was begging me to ask questions. But then, Charlie looked to me as he swallowed a dry gulp, his eyes pleading as if he asked me not to question it - as if he could read what I was thinking and the unanswered questions filtering around. "Are you okay?"

"Just a few bumps and bruises. Nothin' I can't handle." He gave a halfhearted smile and patted his abdominals. "I'm as healthy as a horse." He finished as I scoffed at his words, shaking my head as both men snapped their heads towards me.

"I just got done talking to Carlisle. It sounds like it could have been a lot worse, Charlie." Edward warned as I felt the anger sparking inside of me once again, my mind taming me to calm down as I let out a few breaths of air.

"Ah, you know me, Cullen. As sturdy as steel." Charlie gave him a coy smile as Edward shook his head but reflected with a smile that lit up to his cheeks, one that had caught me off guard and created a sense of relief in me, one that then turned into an uneasiness of feeling exposed around this man I had just met earlier today.

"Charlie, we need to get you home," I said, gesturing to the car. "Can you give us a minute?" I asked Charlie as he nodded, glancing between the two of us and hesitated before stepping away and to the car.

I turned to Edward who looked down at me, the Yankee cap he wore shielding his eyes from the light mist of rain coming from the clouds. They bore down at me with a deep green, one that again made me feel so open and vulnerable in his presence. I hated it, hated every second of it and felt myself feeling minutely overwhelmed by being in such close proximity to him.

"Hey, I know we got off," He began, but I immediately cut him off.

"You are an _asshole_ ," I said plainly through my teeth as his lips lifted in a smile, as if he found this comedic. "You made me feel guilty for what happened last night, but this whole time you've been letting Charlie drink himself to death in _your_ bar. You are a hypocrite!" I shouted, trying to reel in my anger as it gripped me tightly. Edward let out a soft chuckle, which only riled me more, his greens eyes reflecting down to me as he gave me an impish smirk.

"Did you know that your nose scrunches up when you're angry?" He asked as I blinked a few times, trying to read his expression. Despite the crease in his brown, his lips turned up playfully as he tried to judge my reaction to his out of left field comment. "I think it's kind of cute."

" _Are you hitting on me?_ " I asked in disbelief as he shrugged, "You are delusional! What makes you think that is even remotely appropriate?"

"Just trying to lighten the mood." He said calmly, that idiotic smirk still on his lips. "Listen, Bella ... Charlie and I have an understanding, and despite what you think, I am trying to help him."

" _Help_ him?" I asked incredulously, "You let him drink at your bar, you encourage the behavior by giving him a place to stay when he can't make it home, and you bail him out when he lands himself in trouble ... You are enabling him!" I accused, and all playfulness was now gone, and Edward's mouth had settled in a hard line as he tugged on his jacket in annoyance as he lifted his chin higher.

"You don't know anything." He said, looking directly at me with a stern gaze. "I know how it looks, but if you were here ..."

"Stop throwing that in my face! Stop trying to tell me you know him better because you've been here." My voice hadn't lowered, but in my haze of anger, I didn't even notice the people in the parking around us, stopping slightly and giving us a curious look. But quite frankly, I didn't give a shit. "You are no better than him. You are no better than what he does and who he has become. You say you guys have an _understanding_ and that you are helping him, but really look at what you've done. It's amazing to me he isn't dead."

"Thanks to me." Edward retaliated quickly. I scoffed at his words, shaking my head. "I'm not trying to throw your absence in your face; I'm just trying to help you understand that before you came here, it was a lot worse than what you saw last night."

"Stop trying to make yourself seem like a better person. You accused me of not helping him and yet you've done nothing but hand him over the bottle." I said, turning back to the truck as I saw Charlie staring at us. Before I reached the car, I turned back to Edward, stepping closer to him. "I'm staying with Charlie for the next few weeks while his arm heals. I am going to do things my way."

"You're just going to make it worse, I promise you," Edward said confidently. "There are certain things you need to look - "

"I don't want you letting him into your bar. You tell your employees that, too. And if I find out you did, I will personally come down there and kick your ass, do you understand me?" I said, my tone fierce, but that didn't stop the amusing smile that barely touched his lips. He tried to conceal it, but I saw it before it disappeared, the annoyance settling back into his features. Before he could respond, I turned around and headed to the car, sitting into the driver's seat as I felt Charlie's eyes on me. I shifted the car into drive and sped out of the parking lot, leaving Edward behind. Charlie shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearing his throat.

"You're staying?" He asked, his eyes cast downward.

I hesitated on my answer, trying to remember all the reasons why I shouldn't stay. That list was long, so long that it made absolutely no sense as to why I was even considering the other option. But there was one reason that outweighed all the others, one reason why I found myself heading back to Charlie's house in order to take care of him for the next six weeks. Despite our broken relationship, I didn't know if I could leave knowing there was something I could do. After losing Mom and finding Charlie in the state he was in, could I afford to lose him now? Could I afford to leave only to find out months later he died from the same disease that took Mom? The bigger part of me knew he was long gone, but I needed to try. I needed to put in the effort to say that I did everything in my power to help. Or then all of this didn't matter.

"For now."

* * *

AN: Firstly, I want to apologize for not updating last week. We had a lot of changes in our home so we were settling in and I was unable to dedicate time into writing. I hope this extra long chapter made up for it.

As always, shout out to Fran, who is always there fixing my mistakes! You are awesome!

Thank you to everyone who has favorited, followed and commented on the story. Your energy keeps me going.

I'll see you next week...

ii


	6. Erupt

_Chapter Song - Tornado by Jónsi_

 _"You grow, you grow like tornado_  
 _You grow from the inside_  
 _Destroy everything through_  
 _Destroy from the inside_  
 _Erupt like volcano_  
 _You flow through the inside_  
 _You kill everything through  
You kill from the inside."_

* * *

 _September 5_ _th  
_ _5:30pm_

I opened the front door of the house, stepping aside to let Charlie in first. He muttered a thank you as he shuffled in the door and went right to the kitchen. I followed him, setting my keys on the counter as I watched him make his way to the fridge, opening the freezer at the top to grab his chilled bottle of whiskey. I let out an empty laugh, shaking my head as I rubbed my palms over my eyes. I wish I could say I was surprised he was drinking less than an hour from being discharged from the hospital, but there were no surprises when it came to Charlie.

Not even when I agree to stay and help him.

He ignored my empty laughter, setting the bottle on the counter and twisting the cap off with his free hand. And like Charlie-fashion, he didn't bother with a glass. Straight from the bottle was his cup of tea. He took a swig, grimacing at the burn before handing the bottle in my direction. I shook my head, and he shrugged, taking another drink.

"Hair of the dog." He said as an excuse, not that he needed one. He carried the bottle with him to the small kitchen table, sitting on the chair before taking another drink. "Can't expect me to change overnight, Bells. And you really shouldn't expect me to change at all."

"Not with that attitude," I said, sitting myself down next to him. "Don't you want to get better?"

Charlie contemplated this question for a minute, his eyes focusing on the bottle in front of him as he turned it in his hand, the dark liquid sloshing from side to side.

"For a long time, this was the only thing I had." He motioned to the bottle, watching the liquid twist and turn with every movement he made. "I know how deep I'm in. I've known it from the start. You can't reverse things like that."

"Not even for me?" I asked, turning on the guilt. Charlie looked at me with a focused gaze, and I could see the regret swimming within them. I felt my stomach drop, that same moment of honest truth from the hospital again showing itself.

"It has nothing to do with you, Bella. It never has." He shrugged. "It's me. It's who I am."

"You don't have to be _that_ way."

"You can say it, you know. You can call me a drunk. It doesn't change anything. I know what I am and I'm not afraid of it." He finished just before taking another drink, and this time, he didn't grimace. I made a move I rarely did, but felt that if he was meeting me on his level – I could somewhat meet him on his. I reached for the bottle, swiping it from his hands and took a swig. Charlie looked at me with widened eyes as my face contorted into disgust, my head shaking as I felt the warmth in my chest as the alcohol settled in my stomach. The look of shock on his face molded into a smile, a chuckle escaping his lips as he shook his head, grabbing the bottle as I slid it back to him. "Maybe you _are_ my daughter."

"That was disgusting." I coughed, my body shuddering in the aftermath.

"It's an acquired taste." He laughed, taking another shot. The room grew silent, the setting sun dipping into the kitchen as it lit the walls with orange and pink. We sat in silence for a few minutes, reflecting on what each of us had said as the stress of the past twenty-four hours weighed heavily on our shoulders.

"I want to help you," I whispered, breaking the thick silence.

Charlie smiled. It was faint with no trace of hopefulness, happiness or even love that one would expect. It barely touched his lips and was gone faster than it had appeared as he swallowed hard, his troubled brown eyes never leaving the bottle in his hand. I had an inclination to reach for him, to pull him away from what he felt was the only way he needed to live. My body fidgeted, something he noticed immediately as his gaze swung to me, keeping me glued in my seat. The look on his aged face sent a pulse of despondency through me, one I was becoming increasingly familiar with from watching my father slowly kill himself.

I reached for him almost instantly.

He was shocked, his body locking up from surprise as I pulled the bottle from his hand and pried my fingers around his thumb, my other hand swooping under and cradling it. His eyes went back and forth to our hands and the bottle, the truthfulness of this moment making it hard for him to pick one or the other. I could sense his dilemma, feel it in his skin as he cleared his throat and looked down to the table, conflicted on the choices he felt he needed to make.

"Let me help you," I said, squeezing.

"I can't ask you to do that." He responded, his gaze finally meeting mine. "I made my choices a long time ago, Bells."

"That doesn't mean you can't change them."

"I don't want to."

"Try," I began. "For me. Try for me and accept what I am giving you. You say you made your choices and I'm making mine. Don't make me put you in the ground too." He noticed the tears in my eyes, his face falling almost instantly as he let out a shallow and painful breath. At the mention of her, the mention of what I had to do … It was unbearable even for me. "Just try, Charlie. Please. I can help you through this, I know I can."

"You shouldn't be in a place like this. You should be out experiencing the world, and this is going to hold you back."

"Stop making excuses. If I didn't want to be here, I would have left." I insisted.

"You told me last night you were leaving."

"And I told you today I would stay."

"Christ," Charlie groaned, lowering his head. "And if I agree to this and I can't do it. Then what?" He asked as I let go of his hand, settling back into the chair as he watched for my reaction.

"I don't know," I admitted honestly. "I guess we move on."

Charlie chuckled, reaching for the bottle for another drink. It was long and dragged out, leaving only a few gulps left. He tilted the bottle in my direction, and I took it, taking another hard swig before he followed once again after me, finishing the remnants of the whiskey.

"We move on." He ended with a nod.

 _September 6_ _th  
_ _3:50pm_

"I don't know about this, Bella," Charlie said hesitantly as he scrubbed his free hand over his face, his eyes watching every movement I made as I collected all the bottles on the counter near the sink.

"I'm not cutting you off completely," I said, finding the last bottle of whiskey located in the kitchen on top of the fridge. "Do you have any more around the house?" I asked as he shook his head, his eyes near the point of tears as he shuffled his way to the table to ease himself on the chair. "We are leaving the beer, you can have a few of the those a day. It's just to ease your way out of it being part of your normal routine."

"Whiskey _is_ my normal routine, Bella." He deadpanned.

"Exactly. I did the research, I know cutting you off will inevitably backfire. You can survive on beer."

I did my due diligence and researched treatments for addicts and how to overcome this disease. Every site pointed me to programs in the area such as AA or a professional therapist that the addict can visit. There was very little guidance on things I could do to help him besides an intervention with family and loved ones. The thought of Charlie in an intervention was laughable. Not only would he refuse to sit and listen, but the only person who would show up would be me. And if his daughter couldn't get him to stop, who could? So, with a very limited amount of options, I found highly rated therapists around the area, but when I brought the idea to Charlie, he shot it down immediately.

Another trending theme from the research was the importance of not forcing someone to quit cold-turkey. Alcohol withdrawal was no joke, and for someone who was so dependent on it, like Charlie, would suffer in the worse way. The symptoms consisted of vomiting, sweating, shaking, insomnia, and that wasn't even the worst of it. Without alcohol, an addict could start hallucinating and go into a fit of convulsions at any moment, and with Charlie being the heavy drinker he was, he was sure to face these problems.

So instead of stopping cold turkey, I would wean him off gradually. I started with the harder liquor, his favorite … Whiskey.

And as he looked at me with such sadness, I reminded him how this will pay off in the end.

I reminded him that he told me he would _try_.

 _September 6_ _th  
_ _7:01pm_

"What is this?" Charlie asked as I set the plate of steamed vegetables and baked salmon in front of him. He took his fork, poking at the food as if it were going to spring back to life. I poured the last of the meal onto my own plate, walking around the table and sitting down across the table from him.

"It's dinner," I answered, taking my first bite. Charlie surveyed his plate once again, cutting off a sliver of salmon before setting it into his mouth. He chewed for a moment before clearing his throat, his mustache twitching as he swallowed.

"You know, it's okay to have steak. Protein is good for you." He said, taking a bite of asparagus.

"What do you think salmon is?" I inquired, raising a brow.

"I meant red meat. Steak. Burgers." He stabbed another piece of salmon, bringing it eye level to inspect it. "Something you don't get from the ocean."

"Well, if your liver is going, we better keep all of your other organs in good shape. Red meat clogs the arteries." I snapped, taking another bite of my meal. Charlie squirmed slightly in his chair, his lips staying shut but his facial expression told me he wanted to make some snide remark. I wasn't exactly sure his reasoning of staying at least somewhat civil with me, but if I had to guess, I knew it was because I was his only hope in helping him while his arm was recovering.

"This is cat food." He snorted under his breath as I glared up at him. "At least let me have a beer with it. Give me one thing to look forward to. Just one."

I sat back in my chair and contemplated his request. Cutting him off would be worse than allowing him at least one drink a day. I stood from my chair and went to the fridge, opening up to count all six beers that sat cozily on the top shelf. I pulled one out and grabbed the bottle opener magnet from the fridge, popping the cap off before I set it in front of him and took my place back in my seat.

He gave me a satisfied smile, lifting his beer towards me.

 _Cheers._

 _September 9_ _th  
_ _8:14pm_

"I just don't get it, Bella." Phil sighed through the phone as I sat on the top step on the porch, leaning my back against the railing. My legs were tight to my chest as I watched the last of the setting sun bleed through the trees across the street, stars lighting across the sky and the moon illuminating the darkness. I rubbed my temples, shaking my head as I tried to explain to Phil the reasoning for staying, though I knew he would never understand.

"I just have to do it," I answered, setting my head back. "I don't expect you to understand, I just need your support."

"I want to support you, I do. But from the things your mother has said about Charlie …"

"He's an alcoholic, Phil. Not a sociopath. And if I can try and help him, try and avoid what happened to …" I stopped, the words caught in my throat as I lowered my head to my knees. I couldn't even say the words.

Phil let out a breath, sensing my dilemma.

"I just don't want you thinking you have to fix him. Sometimes there are things beyond repair. And I just want you to be able to accept that." He stressed.

"I know my chances are slim," I began. "But I have to try."

"Why? You were so sure all you would be doing is telling him about your mother and then leaving. What's changed?"

I thought about his question, remembering my feelings and emotions on my way to Forks. He was right, I had one goal and one purpose. I was to get in, tell Charlie and get out. But from the moment I told him, to his reaction, to his hospital visit and even to his reluctant but agreeance to receiving help … I had to try and do something.

"Everything."

 _September 9_ _th  
_ _2am_

I was jolted awake almost instantly from the boisterous sounds echoing from the first floor. My eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of my old bedroom as I reached for my side table, grabbing my cell phone and squinting at the sudden brightness that filled the room. The fulminating noise continuing as I left the bed and walked out of the room. As I hit the stairs, I could hear the music playing from the stereo in the living room and a slurring voice singing along. At the bottom of the steps, there were papers strewn about, the closet door across the hall opened and defiled as coats, shoes, boxes, and other junk settled on the floor.

I stepped off the last stair, moving towards the living room and nearly lost a breath at the disarray it was in. Everything was a complete mess, the couch had missing cushions, the shelves missing books, and small boxes left opened. The desk near the back door had all opened drawers that matched the side and coffee tables, and the ottoman was flipped over on its side near the fireplace.

I turned at more commotion in the dining room, following it to find Charlie scouring through the old, antique china cabinet with a mysterious bottle of whiskey nearly empty sitting right next to him. I felt a sense of anger burst through me like a bulldozer – he had either gone out and bought whiskey, or he had lied to me about not having any more in the house. And I wasn't sure which was worse.

He continued to hum to the music from the stereo, but his eyes were fixed on shuffling through the items in the doors … It was clear he was on a mission to find something and was tearing up the house in the process. He paused only for a moment to grab the whiskey next to him, taking a long swig before continuing his search.

"Charlie, what are you doing?" I asked softly, taking in the mess he had created. Startled by my presence, he turned with widened eyes that softened almost immediately in a drunken haze, his lips turning into a delirious smile.

"Bella!" He shouted excitedly.

"What are you doing?" I repeated as he laughed, shaking his head as he went back to his searching.

"It's not in here, but it could be in the kitchen." He spoke to himself, nodding his head as he grabbed the whiskey and headed through the open doorway. The kitchen was untouched, but I had a strong sense it would not stay that way. I followed him, watching as he took a drink and started with the drawer closest to the fridge.

"Where did you get the whiskey, Charlie?" I asked him, watching as he turned to me with a mischievous smirk.

"I _always_ have whiskey." He laughed manically, returning to his mission. I took a step back, running my fingers through my hair as I tried to decipher the situation in front of me. It was clear that Charlie was intoxicated beyond belief and despite my anger for him lying, I knew that I had to handle this delicately.

"What are you looking for, Charlie?"

"I can't tell you. I need to find it so I can give it to you."

"If you tell me, I can help you look," I suggested despite my hesitation about joining him on this downward spiral.

He went quiet, only shaking his head as he moved on to another drawer. This was a junk drawer, one filled with useless items he had collected over time. He rummaged through it so quickly I couldn't even help stop the overflow that spilled to the floor. Charlie ignored it all, trying to find whatever he was in search of.

"It's late, Charlie. How about we get you to bed and we can look for whatever this is tomorrow." I said, taking a step closer as he quickly shook his head.

"You were named after this song, you know. Your mother loved it. She was into that hippy shit." He finished as I noticed the song playing from the stereo. _**Witch Queen of New Orleans by Redbone.**_

" _She'll put a spell on you, Marie, Marie …_ " Charlie sang along as he stumbled over his own feet, my body reacting immediately as I reached for him, grabbing onto his right shoulder to help stabilize him. He let out a loud groan, pushing himself away as he hit the opposite counter, stopping and sliding down onto the floor.

I watched as he reached for the bottle, it slipping from the counter and I seized as I watched it shatter to the floor, the remaining whiskey spilling over the tiles as glass shards decorated around us. Charlie let out a string of curses, tears producing from his eyes as he shook his head.

"I can't find it. I can't find it." He cried, slamming his fists into the cabinets behind him. I jumped at the sudden sound, watching as my father crumbled apart in front of me. The song continued to play, willing him to more tears as he angrily wiped them away when he became aware I was still there. "I'm sorry, Bella. I can't do this, _I'm sorry_."

I shook my head, not responding to his outcry as I grabbed the broom from the closet and began sweeping up the shards around him. I knew helping Charlie wasn't going to be an easy task. And despite our moment of candor at the kitchen table the other night, I was extremely aware of the little chance I had in helping him in any way. And despite the small amount of confidence I had in myself to at least help steer him down the right path, he had quickly proven to be one of the biggest challenges I have ever faced. The memories I had of him as a child couldn't prepare me for the life he now lived. The dependency he had on his addictions were so deeply rooted that I instantly realized I stood little to no chance in breaking through them.

 _September 9_ _th  
_ _4:16am_

"Let me help you," I let out a frustrated sigh as Charlie fought me on taking off his shirt and preparing him for bed. The cast was difficult to get around, and he had proven to be even more difficult as he avoided any help he could. It was a challenge just getting him off the floor of the kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Stop, stop!" He shouted, pushing me away. I let out another breath, shaking my head at him.

"Charlie, just let me help you!"

"I'm just going to go, I'm just gonna sleep." He slurred, half of his shirt off as he laid himself down onto his bed. I rubbed at my face, the lack of sleep catching up to me as Charlie hit his pillow. I grabbed the blankets and pulled them over and up to his shoulder.

"There is a bucket right here." I pointed down by his bedside, but his eyes were already closed. I had a suspicious feeling that I would be washing his sheets in the morning.

I took a step back and headed for the door, stopping just short when I heard him call my name.

"You shouldn't be here." He said as I looked back, his eyes on me. "You should go." His honesty had nearly shocked me through his drunken haze, his eyes looking clear and sober despite the state he had been in the last few hours. "I'm not worth it."

"Goodnight, Charlie," I said, stepping out the door and willing myself not to cry.

 _September 10_ _th  
_ _10am_

I took the whole day scouring for hidden whiskey bottles, collecting five around the house. Charlie had watched me with a somber expression, but said nothing.

Not one word was spoken about yesterday.

 _September 11_ _th  
_ _3:21pm_

It had taken me a day to clean up the mess Charlie had made from the night before. I spent time throwing away useless garbage he had thrown around the house, fixing furniture, and closing drawers when they were left open. Charlie was like a tornado, leaving destruction and chaos in everything he touched and the living had gone through the worst of it. I flipped the ottoman back on its side, grabbing papers that were thrown on the floor from when he scoured through drawers looking for whatever it was he was trying to find.

An opened envelope had caught my eye, in red letters was printed ' _Foreclosure Notice.'_ I opened the letter, unfolding it to see it was from Charlie's mortgage company …

 _Dear Charles Swan,_

 _This letter is a formal notification that you are in default of your obligation to make payments on your home loan, account #982432. This current account holds the sum of $5,000, payable by October 15_ _th_ _, 2017._

 _This amount has been overdue since June 15_ _th_ _, 2017 and you have ignored multiple requests to make a payment or reconsolidate your debt._

 _Unless the payment is received by October 15_ _th_ _, 2017, the foreclosure process on your home will begin._

"Charlie?" I asked, staring down at the paper as my eyes went over the tiny print again and again. When he didn't answer, I went to look for him and scoured the house until I opened the front door and found two bodies sitting at the top of the stairs. They turned around, Charlie glancing between his visitor and me. Edward stood to his feet and faced me. His eyes shot down to Charlie who cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck at the obvious tension that now filled the air.

"We were just …" Charlie began, but Edward cut him off.

"Catching up." He nodded as I crossed my arms in front of me.

"Just checking in on him?" I asked with a raise brow as Edward laughed emptily, shaking his head as he rubbed his chin. The energy in the air had become so thick that Charlie stood up, clasping his hands together as he looked between the two of us.

"Damn, you guys really know how to make someone want a drink." Charlie laughed, hinting at the awkwardness between the three of us. I shot him a glare, and he cleared his throat once again, looking back to Edward. "Thanks for stopping by, Cullen. I'll see you soon." Charlie walked by me and into the house, closing the front door behind him.

I looked back to Edward and took in his appearance. He wore a black beanie that held back the crimson of his hair. He wore a dark navy hoodie and layered a black jacket on top of it that matched his black Nikes. His green eyes were still directly on mine, and despite the tension, a small smirk played on his lips. I felt a combination of annoyance and an unknown emotion that irritated me more than this man did.

"Charlie sure is a handful, isn't he?" He asked in an almost condescending way. Almost as if he were saying _I told you it wasn't going to be easy._

"Don't be a dick," I said immediately as he shook his head, chuckling.

"You are very fond of calling me names, aren't you? Asshole. Dick. Do I really get under your skin that badly?" He asked, his eyes glinting playfully.

"Only when you act like an asshole or a dick." I challenged. "Which, of the handful of interactions I have had with you, it seems to be a constant trait of yours."

"Ouch." He placed his hand over his heart as I rolled my eyes. "You didn't come out here just to kick me, did you?"

"You are at _my_ house," I said with a pointed glare. Edward nodded his head, settling back and into his chair as he rubbed a hand over his chin.

"So, it's _your_ house now?"

"What's your relationship with him?" I asked, ignoring his question. Edward glanced up at me, his green eyes brightened so fiercely that I almost felt lost in them.

 _Almost_.

"What did he tell you?" He asked as I shook my head, indicating that Charlie hadn't mentioned a thing.

"Nothing. In fact, anytime I bring you up, he tries to change the conversation." I said, narrowing my eyes at him. There were several times I tried to pry information out of Charlie in regards to Edward, but each time I was met with either a half-assed explanation or silence. Edward leaned to the side, rested against the staircase down the porch and contemplated his answer, undoubtedly wondering how much he could say without giving the whole truth. "I need to know the truth."

"It really isn't my story to tell, Bella." He said with a shrug.

"That's bullshit."

"Look, your father has been through a lot of shit," He began, "Things I'm not sure he wants to share, and I'm not going to break his trust."

"Shouldn't I know if I'm trying to help him?"

"But what if he doesn't want help?" He asked. "I know how your father is. I know he's more than someone like you can handle."

" _Someone like me_?" I challenged with a scoff.

"Take that as a compliment," He said sincerely, "It means you aren't plagued with demons to have to endure that kind of shit."

"You don't know what I've gone through in my life," I said, crossing my arms over my chest to close myself back up again. "I've had to live with two addicts. The same people who were supposed to raise me, yet _I_ was the one who looked after them."

"Why do you always think I am trying to argue with you?" He asked through an annoyed groan that rumbled into his chest.

"Because you are a jackass." I bit as he raised up three fingers, indicating his point of me name-calling earlier. "I don't want to argue," I began again, "Even if he doesn't want it or if he doesn't deserve it, I just want to help him. That's it."

Silence grew around us, an energy twisting and palpitating around us that crackled with life. I was unaware of the effects of it, I only knew it made me want to build my wall higher and farther away from him.

"I'm his sponsor." He said through the silence, his eyes meeting mine.

"Sponsor? As in AA?" I asked.

"Yeah. I mean, I _was_ when he was coming regularly. I think in a sense I still am. I guess it's more of a caregiver in a way. Just making sure he doesn't kill himself."

"But he _is_ killing himself," I countered, "He is drinking himself right into liver disease, and I'm trying to prevent that from happening."

"I've been doing this a long time with Charlie, Bella. He won't stop drinking."

"You don't know that."

"I do. I _do_ know that. And that's not me being an asshole, that's me being realistic. Charlie is as far gone as it comes. He told me what you're doing, how you're trying to ease him off the harder stuff. He told me about the other night and what happened and what he did." He paused, allowing me to take in the information of Charlie telling him pretty much everything that had happened. I wondered briefly why Charlie was so comfortable with letting Edward in when he kept me at arm's length. And it bothered me more than I'd like to admit. "Trust me when I say I know people like Charlie, I've seen what can and cannot be done."

"Is it because you are an alcoholic?" I asked as the air around us went still. "That's what a sponsor is, right? Someone who has lived through alcoholism themselves?" I could tell that the subject was a minefield for him. His demeanor changed almost immediately. He was no longer leaning against the railing; instead stood straight up with his arms across his chest. His jaw was tightly set, his eyes were fixed dead straight on me as the look on his face told me that that was an off-limits conversation. But I had done my research thoroughly which included what was involved with AA. Sponsors are typically someone, who, at one point had dealt with some form of addiction and had completed the program in order to be a guide for others who are now suffering.

"What is it that you say to me? _You don't know me, you don't know what I've gone through_?" He asked as I felt my stomach drop, realizing how contradicting I really sounded. "Keep doing what you're doing, Bella. I'm sure you'll make a breakthrough at some point."

With that, Edward turned on his heels and headed towards his car, leaving me with an emptiness with every step he took.

 _September 12_ _th  
_ _4:30pm_

"Do you need anything from the store?" I asked as I grabbed my keys from the hook near the front door. Charlie sat in his recliner, his attention focused in on the baseball game on the TV as a bowl of popcorn sat on his lap. I leaned myself against the doorframe of the living room, watching as he shouted obscenities at the TV. "Charlie," I said again, gaining his attention. "Do you need anything from the store?"

"Uh, yeah …" He paused, looking back to the TV, "Oh, come on! What kind of call is that?" He growled, sinking into the recliner as he shook his head. "Damn, umpires don't know jack shit. Uh – yeah, I do. I'm all out of mouthwash, can you pick up some?"

"Sure," I answered, heading back towards the front door. "I counted the beers in the fridge, so don't get any ideas."

"Yeah, yeah."

 _September 12_ _th  
_ _7:24pm_

"I saw the foreclosure notice yesterday," I said as while I cut up the pork on my plate as Charlie and I sat in silence at the dinner table. He sipped on his beer, his first and only one for the day as he scarfed down the food in front of him, ignoring eye contact with me. "Are you not working?"

"I'm in-between jobs." He said, reaching for the salt in the middle of the table, sprinkling it over his green beans.

"What happened to the plant?" I asked, ignoring the food in front of me. After he had been revoked of his job as the Chief, Charlie found work in one of the local plants around Forks. It wasn't glamorous, but in a town such as this, you really couldn't be picky.

"Bunch of bureaucratic assholes who have no business being in the line of work they are in, and that's a fact," Charlie said with certainty, stuffing a forkload of green beans into his mouth.

"So, what are you going to do about the house?" I inquired.

"I'll figure it out. I always do." He gave me an impish smile as I rolled my eyes.

 _Charlie short-cut Swan._

 _September 12_ _th  
_ _11:41pm_

I walked up the stairs as the tiredness rested heavily on my bones, covering my mouth as I let out a loud yawn. I walked towards my old bedroom, stopping just short of Charlie's room as I noticed his bed was empty. He had left to come up a little after dinnertime, claiming he was worn out. I stepped closer to his bedroom, inspecting the inside to find it indeed was empty. I turned at a sound coming from the bathroom, stepping closer as I pressed my ear against the wood. "Charlie?" I asked, reaching down to the knob and twisting it to find it locked.

"Charlie?" I asked through the door, my fist balling as I knocked against the wood. "Charlie?" I asked again, hearing nothing but silence.

A million scenarios had filtered in my head that moment and none ended well. In a desperate attempt to get inside, I grabbed hold of the knob, bracing it as I took a step back and rammed myself once more until the lock gave in and the wood splintered as I forced it open. I was able to steady myself, my free hand holding onto the doorframe as I was instantly hit with an alarming stench that immediately caused me to bring a hand over my mouth and nose. On the floor was Charlie; his eyes were closed, and his body was curled into a ball just near the toilet. On the tile around him were chunks of vomit, the stench of it making my eyes water as I took a step back only to notice that his hand was not empty.

He was holding the mouthwash I had bought just earlier that day.

I felt the panic brewing inside of me, and I couldn't stop what happened next. It was as if someone has flipped an internal switch and my mind almost went blank, my heart rate increasing as I felt as if I was being closed in at an unnerving rate.

My brain was defaulting to a memory, and in the blankness of the anxiety, I could see my mother's lifeless body back home in Phoenix.

Immediately, I lost the ability to breathe, my throat closing so quickly that I didn't have time to react. I felt my knees go weak, my sight going dizzy as I fell to the ground, heaving, with my palms pressing deep into the wood of the hallway floor. A hand reached up, covering over my heart as I tried to force myself out the panic, but the onslaught of tears and hyperventilating made it difficult for me to think about anything else. I could hear Charlie mumble and a sense of relief washed over me, but the memories were still there and were triggering every cell in my body.

I closed my eyes, reminding myself to take in deep breaths.

 _In and out._

 _In and out._

I did this a few times until the panic subsided enough for me to function. I moved towards Charlie on my hands and knees and reached to feel his pulse, feeling for his heartbeat on his wrist. It was strong enough to indicate he wasn't in any peril. He was intoxicated from the combination of the beers and the mouthwash. _How could I be so stupid?_ I took the bottle from his hand, feeling the lightness to it. I felt sick to my stomach knowing that he had drunk every single drop just so he could experience a harder high than what the beers could provide him. And at that moment, despite my anxiety attack, despite everything that had happened in the past week – I couldn't bear it any longer. I felt the anger brewing deep in my bones, ready to burst at a moment's notice.

"Charlie, get up," I said, wiping the tears from my face. I tapped him, and he groaned in response, turning his head away from me. "Charlie, get up," I repeated. "Get up! Get the fuck up, Charlie!" I screamed as he stayed motionless. I stood to my feet with the help of the sink and kicked him in the legs a few times. Charlie groaned once more, turning his body towards the wall to shield himself from me.

I turned from the bathroom and flew down the stairs, making my way to the front door as the cold night instantly hit my body. I didn't even make it past the first steps before I was down, letting out a wail that hit me right in my core. The panic I tried to subside was breaking its way through, and I didn't know if I was going to be able to stand the pressure. And I knew, despite how much I tried to help Charlie, no matter what I did, it would never be enough. I would never be enough to help him get through whatever the hell he was trying to overcome. And at that moment, despite my knowledge of it, I honestly knew now that he would not change.

He would always be what he wanted to be.

A drunk.

The anger I felt towards my father was overwhelming. I felt at a loss of what to do next, of where how to help him from here and if I even wanted to.

And within the turmoil that twisted inside of me, I pulled out my cell phone. I went online and searched for a phone number I still wasn't positive would be my best option.

I set my phone to my ear as it began to ring, but then heard it pick up almost immediately.

"Masen's, this is Jasper."

"Is Edward there?"

"He is, who's this?"

"This is Bella Swan. Can you tell him to come to Charlie's?"

* * *

 _AN: Firstly, I apologize for the late update. I gave you an extra long chapter as an apology! Secondly, I want to advise that this will not be how my chapters are written going forward. The point of it was to give the audience a peak into the life of someone battling with an addiction such as alcoholism._

 _I know we are all eager for Bella and Edward to start an actual conversation rather than just arguing. Remember, Bella is taking this one step at a time. It's coming, I promise!_

 _See you next week.._


	7. Flame

_Chapter Song - Dust to Dust (Acoustic) - The Civil Wars_

 _"All your actin',_  
 _Your thin disguise,_  
 _All your perfectly delivered lies._  
 _They don't fool me,  
You've been lonely, too long."_

* * *

"Bella?" Edward asked, his voice strained as he hovered at the bottom of the stairs. I could sense he was close, feel the warmth his body gave off despite the cold air as his hand wavered in between the two of us as if he was unsure whether to touch me or not. I felt a sense of comfort by the sound of his voice, his proximity easing the anxiety attack that still brewed inside of me like a plague. It taunted me, spitting images in my mind of that night in Phoenix that would live with me every day, the very same ones I tried to forget.

"He's upstairs," I whispered the words like there was glass in my throat. He hesitated for a moment, but I didn't look up at him … _I couldn't_. I was open and raw, the anxiety stripping what little will I had to stand on my two feet and I couldn't let him see it. So, I answered his hesitation and curled my legs into my chest as I buried my head into my knees. I heard his footsteps and then the door opening and closing behind me as I wiped my cheeks against the fabric of my jeans, sniffling through the pain of the cold air in my lungs.

Was it possible to feel your heart break from inside your chest? To feel the tear in the muscle as your vessels burst into nothingness and blood seeped deep into your soul, running so cold that your joints felt frozen? If it were at all possible, I was feeling every fraction of it.

I thought back to where I was just a few short months ago, interviewing for editor positions at prestigious publishers, spending time with my own writing and surrounded by the people that I loved. When I think of Phoenix, I think of a happiness I hadn't felt in a long time because the moment my mother died, everything changed. I weighed heavily on Phil's words earlier this week, wondering what the real reason was that I was sticking around when it was clear from the start that it was useless. It felt foreign here in Forks and just as cold to match the rainy temperature. What I would give to go back and relive the memories of my home before everything fell apart.

I reached for the pendant sitting on my chest and held it tightly as I worked through the panic, willing myself to get through the bad to see a sliver of good.

With shaky knees, I stood with the help of the banister and made my way inside. From the bottom of the stairs, I could see the light of the bathroom accompanied by the sound of Charlie throwing up, the nerves inside of me ready to burst once again. I darted for the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water but I couldn't find it in myself to move. With the faucet running to drown out the noise from upstairs, I stared down at the full glass of water as tears fell down my cheeks in hot streaks.

While in my head, I had suddenly felt a warm presence near me, one that I relished in as it eased the running thoughts in my brain. Leaning against the counter, I let it take over me, and I harnessed it, trying to pull it closer to me to settle the emotions that ran rampant like a live wire through my brain. And it wasn't until I heard my name behind me that I realized I wasn't alone, my head turning slightly to see the tall figure only a few steps away. I straightened up, clearing my throat as I wiped my cheeks once more for good measure and stared down at the sink.

"I got him to bed," Edward said behind me as I caught another stray tear. I could hear the floorboard creak, as if he had taken a step towards me and I felt as my body instinctively begin to tense, the noise stopping as he halted, noticing my demeanor at his closeness.

"Okay, thank you," I said through a choked breath, covering it with a cough. "Sorry for bringing you out here so late."

"I don't mind," He began, "I'm glad you called. I know it can't be easy for you - "

"I'm fine," I interjected quickly, staying put in my spot as I dared not to allow him to see me like this. The unknown emotions I had already felt being in the same room with him made me feel like I couldn't be exposed, not for even a second. And despite my gratitude for him coming and helping me, I couldn't afford to allow him any closer than he already had come. So, I stayed motionless, hoping he would sense my discomfort and avoidance.

"You'll want to keep an eye on him. If he starts vomiting blood or gets a fever, he'll need to see a doctor." He started, his voice soft, "I'm going to leave you my number in case you need me." I heard him shuffle behind me and only step closer to place a slip of paper on the counter next to me. He didn't linger and took a few steps back and towards the door, but I could hear his hesitation before he spoke, "Bella …" He said through a whisper, my body inching to turn around but the anxiety that coursed through me kept me still in my spot. "Goodnight." He finally said, turning and walking out the door.

The moment the door shut, I found myself sliding to the ground, a screech leaving my lips as I covered my mouth with my palm to silence it. Tears spilled down my face, my heart pounding as I tried to pick up the pieces around me, tried to find any amount of strength I could to help me off the floor. But between what happened with Charlie and giving in and asking Edward for help, despite my fears of getting too close to him, I hit another wall. My body curled into itself, my wails silenced by my hand as I hit the ground in a fetal position, finding it hard to breathe.

I wasn't sure how long I was on the ground for – it could have been seconds, minutes or even hours. My breakdown had overwhelmed me to the point of losing my sense in time, but somehow, I was able to see through the tears, find my breath and pulling myself up from the floor.

I moved through the house at a slow pace, climbing the stairs and hitting the second floor as I noticed Charlie's bedroom door was open, his body sprawled over the blankets as his chest moved up and down in large breaths. I walked to the side of the bed, looking down at his closed eyes as he slept with his brows furrowed as if he were having a bad dream. He muttered something, his body twitching as I leaned forward and pressed my palm to his forehead to gauge his temperature.

When I was satisfied that he did not have a temperature, I walked to the chair in the corner of his bedroom, grabbing the plaid throw blanket from it and covered his body. I made my way back to the chair, settling myself down into the plush cushions as I curled my legs up against my chest, still brushing away the tears that didn't seem to stop no matter how much I had cried beforehand.

When the dawn broke through the tree line outside of the house, I had given up on getting any decent amount of sleep. Throughout the hours I stood on standby, I was able to collect my thoughts and emotions. The pain was still there, the memories of the night before replaying in my head like a broken record – but I knew I couldn't dwell on it. So, I allowed myself the time I needed to feel sorry for myself and sorry for the situation I was in. But instead of lingering on it as I had originally planned, I distracted myself with a shower and the intentions of going to see Edward.

While Charlie was my main concern, I couldn't stop thinking about what Edward had done to help me, despite our broken relationship. Without hesitation, with no strings attached, he came when I called, and I, in turn, brushed him off because of my own insecurities.

I sat on the side of my childhood bed, tying my boots as my phone lit up on the side table next to me. Phil had sent me a text message, keeping up to date with what was happening back in Phoenix. I quickly typed him a message back, noticing the date at the top of my screen. I stayed still for a moment, my eyes reading over the seven numbers repeatedly. _9/13/2017_. My twenty-fifth birthday. I didn't linger any longer, locking my phone and sliding it into my pocket as I headed back into Charlie's bedroom. I wrote him a note, just in case he woke up and set a glass of water and some Advil on his bedside table, hoping he'd see it and take it to help the inevitable headache he would have.

I left the house, locking up behind me as I started my car and headed towards town. I decided not to reach out to Edward first, hoping he would be at the bar but also allowing myself the time alone on the drive to town. I spent the short time thinking of what I was going to say to him, wondering what he would say or if we would just wind up arguing again as usual. When I reached downtown, I pulled into Masen's, seeing a figure opening and closing the door. The crimson hair peaked from the baseball cap, and I knew immediately that it was Edward. I opened my car door and headed towards the front, stopping just a few feet shy of him.

"Hey," I said as Edward turned to my direction, looking surprised as he slipped the keys out of the lock and into his pocket. He took a step away from the door and towards me but made sure that there was still a sufficient amount of space between the two of us.

"Hey," He responded with a smile, nodding to me, "A little early for a bar visit, don't you think?" He asked, breaking the tension as I reflected his smile, bowing my head as my hair shielded my face. I looked back up to him, pushing strands behind my ears.

"Yeah. Do you have a minute to talk?" I asked.

"Sure, do you mind going to my place? I just locked up everything." He said, gesturing to the bar. I inhaled sharply, raising a brow as he immediately picked up on my expression. "I live just right here, on the top floor."

I exhaled, nodding my head as he turned and I followed. Edward walked a few steps to the right and opened the door a few feet from the bar, the very same door I had seen an angry blonde storm out of when I was looking for Charlie. I wondered momentarily how she was related to Edward; a relative, a friend, _a girlfriend_? I expelled the thought from my mind as we entered through the door, a small foyer stood just before wooden stairs leading up to the top floor. I followed Edward, holding onto the railing until we reached his door.

The studio apartment was the size of the bar downstairs, filled with light from the industrial windows that covered the majority of the front walls. What wasn't glass was brick. In the front near the stairs was a tan leather sofa and next to it was a matching chair that pointed towards a table that held the TV. A small kitchen sat cozily in the corner, and in the back was a bed, covered in a light gray duvet that was lit from the morning sun. Edward had shrugged off his jacket and placed it on the coat rack, turning back to me to reach for my own. I took a step back from his sudden movement, clearing my throat to ease the tension as he backed away. I shrugged my jacket off my shoulders, handing it to him as he took it willingly with a smile.

"Can I get you something to drink?" He asked politely as I shook my head. Despite the awkward silence, he gestured us towards the couch. He sat on the chair, with me sitting opposite on the other end of the couch. "How's Charlie doing?" He asked.

"Uh, he's okay, I think," I explained, "I checked on him periodically through the night, and he didn't have a fever. He's been asleep since you got him to his bedroom." I ended as Edward nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he absorbed the information. "I just …" I began awkwardly, clearing my throat as I fidgeted on the leather. "I just wanted to say thank you for last night. I didn't mean to ruin your night …"

"You didn't ruin anything," He interrupted with a half-smile that touched his emerald eyes. The sight made the warmth inside of me travel all the way to my fingertips, a feeling that automatically put me on the defense, wanting to close up and hide myself from the sensation. I absentmindedly crossed my arms over my chest, my back stiffened as I returned his smile half-heartedly. "You okay?" He spoke as I bit my bottom lip, trying to contain the emotions inside of me.

"Yeah," I choked, clearing my throat to try and cover the ridiculous sound.

"There is this brand of mouthwash called Aesop." He began, "It's alcohol-free. I have a few bottles leftover if he wants them." He said, his elbows resting on his knees as he watched me.

"What? No comment on my poor choice to buy him Listerine?" I snapped, immediately agitated with myself that I was picking a fight when he had come to help with no reservations. Edward didn't say anything, and I looked over to him with apologetic eyes.

"Sorry."

"Despite what you think of this," He began as he pointed between the two of us. "I don't want to argue with you every time I see you. So, no. I won't make a comment about it because there is nothing to blame you for. You just didn't know, Bella."

"I should have known."

"Why?"

"Because I grew up with him, I should have known better." I lowered my head into my hands, rubbing my temples as I calmed the nerves that had shot through me. Edward stayed silent for a few moments, but I could feel his heated gaze on me, the same one that made me feel comforted and uneasy at the same time.

"It's been a long time since you've been around him. And those suffering from alcoholism will go to any length to get what they feel will sustain him. Charlie is no different." He reassured with a calming tone.

As we sat across from each other, a silence fell over the room leaving nothing but the sounds of outside to seep through the crack of the windows. I had taken in Edward's posture, how open he was with his arms and legs that made him seem supportive and understanding – a far cry from how I sat, curled up on the farthest end of the couch, closed off for no one to see. The differences between us had become alarmingly clear at that moment, which made those walls I built even higher than before.

"Happy birthday, by the way," Edward said suddenly, my eyes narrowing in confusion.

"What?"

"When I put him to bed, he kept mentioning today was your birthday. The 13th?" He trailed off, wondering if what Charlie had said was true or was just part of his drunken rambling.

"What was he saying?"

"Do you really want to know?" He questioned with a fixed stare, one that told me that he wasn't sure how I was going to react. I nodded, trying to open my posture to match his to make him feel more comfortable in divulging information to me. I uncrossed my arms, scooting closer to the center of the couch. "I mean, I really only caught bits and pieces. He was … crying a lot." He paused, gauging my action as I nodded. "He said something along the lines of hating himself for doing this to you, especially on your birthday. He also mentioned someone else … Renee?"

The moment the name left his lips, I swiveled my gaze to the floor and closed my eyes. I took a few moments to keep myself together, gripping and pulling all my pieces to avoid them falling right in front of Edward. I opened my eyes, letting out a ragged breath as I was met with his green eyes, watching me with astonishment and a curious gaze.

"Bella?" He asked, his body inching toward me as I shook my head, sliding myself back to the other side of the couch. Edward settled again, nodding his head in understanding. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked, clearing my throat once again. Edward looked at me with a softness in his eyes, one that held penitence and sympathy, and caused the green in his irises to lighten, which in turn invoked a tightness deep in my stomach.

"For everything. For me," He began, "You were right you know." He paused, smiling at me as I looked at him in confusion. "I am a jackass. And a dick. And an asshole." He shrugged as I let a chuckle rumble from my chest, a small smile playing at the corner of my lips. "I don't want you to think you can't come to me when it comes to Charlie … Or anything." He watched me, observing my reaction as I stayed motionless until turning towards the kitchen.

"Can I actually get some water?" I interjected to break his gaze, and he nodded, standing **up** and walking into the small kitchen. I laid back into the chair, taking in deep breaths as I heard the faucet running. I pressed my palms over my eyes, scrubbing over my face as I tried to suppress the ton of emotions that weighed down on my shoulders, pushing me farther and farther ... waiting for me to break. I took another long breath as I heard footsteps coming back towards me, then Edward reaching down to hand me the small glass. I murmured a thank you as he took his place back across from me.

"You're not the only one who needs to apologize. What I said the other day about …" I trailed off, hinting to the comment I made about him being a volunteer and an alcoholic. "That was extremely out of line. I don't know what came over me."

"You weren't wrong. I mean, I'm sober now …" He said with a shrug.

"It doesn't matter. That's your life and your story. I know I hate it when someone thinks they know me and I shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry." I concluded and watched as he shrugged.

"I think we may need a do-over?" He suggested, "Forget everything that happened and start to get to know each other?" He said as I darted my eyes away, feeling the tenseness in my shoulders at the prospect of getting to know him. "Can I ask you something?" He said as I looked up to him with a hesitated nod. "How long are you planning on staying in Forks?" He asked as I blew a breath of air, a strand of hair flying out of my face as I shrugged.

"I'm not really sure," I said honestly. "I had a plan when I came here, and it changed. And after last night … It's all up in the air." I finished as Edward nodded, allowing a moment for silence to overtake us.

"You know, I stand by what I said the other day. How far Charlie is in? I don't know how much you can do to even try and break it. But, I can tell you that he is trying." He paused, watching me. "He said he was going to do what he could and I've never heard that from him. Not in the years I've known him. So, you have to be doing something right."

"I wish I knew what it was."

"I think it's just you," He admitted, "You being here has given him something to fight for, you know? I always thought Charlie was a lost cause because I didn't think he had family or someone he would want to get better for. Despite my relationship with him, there was nothing to push him to sobriety … Until you showed up."

"That may be true. But I don't think it's enough." I admitted.

"I can help you." He offered as I looked up to him with hesitation, watching as he gave me a warm smile. "I don't know how much I can do, but whatever you need … I'll help."

"You want to help me?" I questioned, the tightness in my stomach pulsing once more.

"I do."

"Can I ask you a question?" I inquired as he nodded, "At the hospital, you said something to me. You said before I came here, it was a lot worse. What did you mean by that?" I asked, and it was Edward's turn to look uncomfortable. He stretched back into the chair, and I could almost instantly see the fight inside of him, going back and forth, as to whether he wanted to say anything or deflect. "You said you wanted to start over," I reminded him.

"With you and me," He said, "Charlie is another story. Have you asked him about it? About before you were here?" He questioned as I shook my head. "Ask him."

"Why is it some secret?"

"Do you trust me enough to tell me about Renee?" He questioned as I immediately went on the defense, my body stiffening as I nearly stood from my seat. Edward caught my reaction, immediately putting up his hands, "Charlie has mentioned her before when he's been drinking. When I question him about it, he brushes me off, and judging by your reaction, you know what he is referring to."

"It's different," I snapped.

"Is it? You're asking me to tell you something about your father, something I know he wouldn't want me to say, but you don't trust me enough to tell me what this person means to the two of you. Don't ask me to do something you aren't willing to do. That's not fair." Edward ended flatly, as I eased myself back into the couch with a nod.

The automatic default setting I had to the mention of my mother's name had made me become blind to any situation I was in. I knew he was right; I was asking something from him I wasn't willing to give. And despite the deep annoyance I had at being left in the dark in something that concerned my father, I knew I couldn't force Edward to give me this. "Maybe one day, we can earn each other's trust enough to let the other one in." He finished as I nodded stiffly, tapping my thumb against the untouched glass of water in my hand.

"How long have you known Charlie?" I asked, changing the subject. Edward had noticed this immediately, pressing his lips into a hard line to suppress a smile.

"About six years. I met him when I moved in here." He mused, "He knew my father, who I inherited Masen's from." He said, nearly wincing at the word _inherited_ , a touchy subject I was all too familiar with.

"Emmett told me he tried to convince you to sell the bar," I said, lightening the mood as Edward rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"He thinks he's the shit just because he invested in the right stocks. He doesn't know anything about owning and selling property." He exclaimed as I laughed, "I don't know, I was twenty at the time when I took it. I didn't want to see someone else get it, but I almost ran it into the ground because I had no idea what I was doing. Charlie actually helped keep it afloat, if you can believe it."

"My Charlie?"

"When he isn't drinking, he definitely knows his shit. He got through to me, helped me rebuild what needed to be fixed. Something else I owe to him."

"Something else?" I asked.

"Just as much as I have helped him, he's helped me." Edward finished as a silence fell over us once more. The sun peaked through the windows, warming my skin as I felt his eyes on me. I stole a glance, the two of us adverting our gazes as he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a soft chuckle.

"I should probably go and check on Charlie," I said, beginning to stand as Edward reflected my motions.

"Yeah, yeah. I have some places to run to, so I should head out as well." He said, walking over to grab my coat. I set my glass of water down, reaching for my coat from him. "Give me one second," He said, walking past me and disappearing into the small door past the bed. I stood by the banister, watching as he walked out with a few bottles in his hand. "The mouthwash brand I was telling you about. I had some left over."

"Oh, no … I can buy these …"

"Seriously, it's more than what I need. Take it." He said, handing me the bottles. I reached for them, our fingers touching by pure accident but the feeling of his skin had caused a shock to ripple inside of me, one that almost caused me to drop the glass bottles right to the floor. Edward had noticed my quick movement, gripping harder to avoid them from falling as he let out a hearty chuckle, my cheeks flushing with pink. "You okay, there?"

"Yeah … I'm sorry, I really have to go." I said as I headed down the stairs, trying to expel the energy that crackled through my skin. As I hit the foyer, I stopped as my name was called, my eyes drifting back to the top of the stairs where Edward stood. The sunlight over the room lightened his crimson hair, almost as if it were giving him a halo effect. His green eyes bore down to me with such an intensity that I felt magnified underneath them.

"I meant what I said earlier. If you need me, I'll be there," He told me, his expression stern but a sincere as an inviting smile played at the corner of his lips. I felt my breathing hitch, my mind racing with different emotion I couldn't catch. I nodded quickly, opening the door and stepped outside into the bitter cold that had no bearing on the flame I felt inside of me.

* * *

 _AN: Thank you for those who have been following, favoriting and reviewing! I love hearing your feedback and theories, especially when it involves Charlie and Edward's background._

 _I am also enjoying your responses to my version of Bella. While this was a rough chapter for her, I try and write her with as much strength and independence that I can and I am glad it is coming off that way._

 _A BIG thank you to my beta, Fran! She keeps me honest in my writing, fixes my sloppy mistakes that I make at 4am and provides me insight and guidance when I truly need it. Please make sure to go to her ffn profile (SunflowerFran) to see the other stories she has beta'd!_

 _See you next week..._


	8. Broken

_Chapter Song - Feeling Whitney by Post Malone_

_To each their own and find peace in knowing_  
 _Ain't always broken, but here's to hoping_  
 _Show no emotion, against your coding_  
 _Just act as hard as you can._

* * *

"Charlie Swan?" The receptionist quipped from her desk, standing as her tight, blonde curls jumped with each bounce she made. She had a cheek-splitting smile that hurt to look at, her over-the-top attitude causing the cynic in me to roll my eyes. Charlie let out a few short gruffs, dipping his fingers into his collar to loosen the fabric around his neck. I stood with him as we made our way out of the waiting room and followed Irina, whose name I had found on her desk tag, to the offices in the back of the building. Irina stopped just before the last door, knocking twice before stepping inside.

"Mr. Jenks, Charlie Swan, is here," Irina said as she stepped out of the way, allowing us in.

"Well, I'll be damned. Charlie Swan." Mr. Jenks was an older gentleman,

"Jenks, good to see you," Charlie reached for a handshake with his free hand just as the man turned his attention towards me. "This is my daughter, Bella,"

"Daughter?" He laughed, looking between the two of us. "Since when have you had a daughter?"

"We just rekindled," Charlie said awkwardly, just as he had any time he had to explain our relationship to someone. Mr. Jenks reached for me, and I took his head with a nod, sitting down in the leather seats across the wooden desk.

"I can't say I'm surprised to see you, Swan," Jenks straightened his tie followed by leaning his elbows in front of him. "What can I do for you?"

"We need a loan," I said before Charlie could. Jenks looked to me with surprise, raising a brow before he let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. I sat back into my seat, crossing my arms as I narrowed my eyes to him in annoyance.

"You must really have just rekindled if you thought it was a good idea for him to come here," He began before turning his attention back to Charlie, "Swan, you already have debt with us. And your mortgage company has called preparing for foreclosure in addition to balances you owe. What makes you think you can get another loan from us?"

"For old times?" Charlie asked with a shrug as Jenks stifled a laugh, shaking his head. "How many times have I helped you and Maureen out around the house?"

"It's not about that, Charlie. This is a business – "

"What do we need to do to get this loan?" I interjected.

"Go to another bank. But the minute they pull his credit, they'll laugh in his face. He has too many outstanding balances, and not just with this establishment." Jenks ended.

"So, what the hell am I supposed to do? They are going to foreclose on the house!" Charlie shouted as Jenks shrugged, at a loss of what to say.

"I say your best bet is to let them take the house, take anything worthwhile to help deplete the debt you own. Get a job and start paying back."

"You think I can work like this?" Charlie raised his shoulder, showing his casted arm.

"What stopped you before you broke your arm?" Jenks asked as Charlie huffed, sitting back into his seat. "The only other thing I can tell you to do is to have someone open a loan. Maybe a relative?" He trailed off as his eyes moved to me. I looked back to Charlie who watched but almost instantly shook his head, looking back to Jenks.

"Out of the question. I got myself in this mess, I ain't pullin' my daughter into it. "

"Charlie," Jenks began.

"Absolutely not. The answer is no. What are my other options?" Charlie asked. Jenks blew out a hefty breath and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head at his inevitable answer. While I stayed quiet through Jenks inquiry of me opening a loan, the thought burrowed in the back of my mind. Every part of it was throwing up a red flag. I'd need a significant amount to keep the foreclosure at bay, but how long would that last? And I knew Charlie would never be able to pay me back. But the idea was still there, something I went back and forth with more than I'd like to admit.

"I have nothing for you, Charlie. I'm sorry." Jenks said with a shrug, looking between the two of us.

"Yeah, a lot of help you were. Don't be asking me to come fix shit around your house anymore. You can hire someone to do that now," Charlie bit as he started to stand from his chair.

"If I co-sign on the lease, he would be approved?" I asked as Charlie turned towards me, his face paling as his eyebrows furrowed in anger. Jenks glanced between us, settling his sight on me as he provided a tight nod.

"It would still have to go through an approval process and depending on your credit, I don't know how much it would be approved for. But, that's his only shot at saving the house." Jenks finished.

"Bella, absolutely not. I'll find another way." Charlie seethed through his clenched teeth.

"How?" I asked.

"I don't know. But I will. Let's go." He huffed, muttering curses under his breath as he slammed the door open, exiting.

"Bella," Jenks stopped me as I stood, reaching over with a small card between his fingers. "If you are interested. Give me a call." I looked at the rectangle card in his grip, my hand reaching down and swiping it as I slid it into my pocket.

"Seriously, Charlie?" I grounded as I made my way to the bar at Masen's. My small encounter with Jenks had provided Charlie enough time to leave the bank and cross the street to the bar. I didn't take much for me to figure out where he was, my eyes warily gazing at the empty glass in front of him as he gave me a shrug.

"One drink ain't gonna hurt me." He challenged as I slipped myself onto the stool next to him, finding it pointless to argue. "Can you believe the balls on that guy? What makes him think he has all the fucking power?"

"He's just doing his job," I said as I rubbed my temples to soothe the impending headache. "I know you don't want to hear it about the loan, but,"

"Bella, seriously. I'm not taking your money."

"But it won't be my money. It'll be the banks." I argued.

"I don't care. I don't want you helping me with this. I'm a grown ass man, I can handle this myself. I'll find a way." He said, ending the dispute then and there. "Jazz," Charlie said, holding up two fingers. Jasper came over, sparing me a smile as he set two shot glasses in front of us. "It's been a hell of a day. I think we both deserve this," Charlie smiled impishly as Jasper finished pouring the shots. Charlie reached for one and slid it towards me, picking up his own as he raised an eyebrow as if to convince to join him.

I wish I could say I hesitated, that I thought about the repercussions of what would follow if I encouraged his behavior. I wish I could have said I pulled him from that bar and took us straight home where we spoke logically of the next steps we needed to take to save the house and Charlie from bankruptcy.

Yes, I wish I could say I did all that.

But instead, I took the shot. Call it a moment of weakness, a second where all I could think about was the stress Forks had been piling onto me the moment I crossed the border. But when I felt the burn down my throat, I realized this was not just some fleeting moment where I faltered. I was weighed down so heavily by my burdens that one shot was not enough, and before I knew it, Charlie and I both had gone through multiple drinks.

"Shit," Charlie said, bracing himself on the bar, "I feel like a teenager having his first beer." He laughed as I broke a smile, feeling warm as the alcohol spread throughout my body. "And considering that is all you let me have, this is really going to hit me." He warned, but I just shrugged, waving Jasper down to pour another shot.

"We _really_ shouldn't be doing this," I said through a giggle as Jasper hesitantly hovered the tip of the bottle over the shot glasses, giving me a moment to change my mind. When I gave him a nod, he pressed his lips together and tilted the bottle even more, allowing the liquid to fall freely into our glasses.

"Bella, one thing I will say is this … You are only young once. Enjoy this vice while you can, because the older you get, the more it fucks with your body and not your mind." He slurred, reaching his shot towards mine. "Don't they say it's always okay to have a cheat day when you are dieting? Think of this as my cheat day."

"You are so full of shit," I said through laughter, clinking my glass against his as we both took it down easily.

"Eh, I am." Charlie shrugged, giving me an impish smirk. "You are too you know. How long have you been yelling at me to go sober? And here you are!"

"Here I am." I agreed with a sloppy smile.

"I can't believe I'm going to lose the house." Charlie stumbled through his words, leaning closer towards me. "That house has been in our family for generations. My father and his father and his father who originally built it. And it's going to be gone," He snapped his fingers, "Just like that. And it's because the Government is corrupt and when you are struggling, they kick you down some more!"

"Here we go," Jasper rolled his eyes from across us.

"No, seriously! Seriously! You put blood, sweat, tears –"

"Whiskey," Jasper mentioned, narrowing his eyes at Charlie.

"Whatever! You put your life's work into your home, and when times are tough, it's like… it's nothing! It's nothing, Bells! Don't ever get a job in the Government or I will take you off the will!"

"You have a will?" I asked as Charlie immediately shook his head.

"No," He laughed as I followed suit, the two of us heaving over into laughter. "Another shot for your birthday? I royally fucked that up," He laughed as he reached for the bottle on the other side of the bar despite Jasper's immediate arguing, "I'll replace the bottle, Jazz … I'm good for it."

"Yeah, I'll add it to the tab." Jasper grounded as I spared him an apologetic look as Charlie poured our tiny glasses to the rim. I was surprised Charlie had mentioned my birthday at all; as it was a subject he had actively tried to dodge in the past few days. After I returned home from Edward's to find Charlie puking in the bucket next to his bed, I spent the better half of my night tending to him.

When he was sober enough to talk, he chalked the night up to a lapse in judgment. When I tried to continue the conversation, he shut me down. I knew he was embarrassed by what had happened, but I didn't continue to pry. So, we carried on as if nothing else was needed to be said, despite his lack of apology.

At some point, Charlie left to use the restroom, and during this time my vision began to blur, my hands coming to my eyes as I tried to rub it away while my body began to relax into the alcohol that fused in my system. But I had realized that within the alcohol, I lost my ability to worry about the things that were crashing down around me. And because of it, I took another shot. The heat that radiated from inside me sizzled any panic I had about my mother's death, Charlie's addiction, and the impending doom of him losing his house.

It was damn near liberating, and for a moment, I understood why Charlie did it.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" A voice said, my hazy eyes swiveling up to immediately meet green. Edward stood behind the bar, leaning against the top counter as he looked at me with a curious expression. I wondered briefly if I were imagining it, as I didn't even see him walk into the bar, making me question how drunk I really was.

I thought back to the last time I saw him just a few days ago, upstairs in his loft. His truth and vulnerability with me had caused me to go on the defense and escape. Something about him, something deep inside that I could sense put me on edge. And not the edge where you feel the anxiety creeping up your throat or slithering down your spine. But an edge where you could literally feel someone easing their way inside of you in a manner that was far too personal and intimate. Yet, in a way, it was the most overwhelming but comfortable feeling I had ever experienced.

So, I did what I was known for, and I ran. Edward hadn't reached out to either Charlie or myself and instead kept his distance out of respect of allowing me to deal my father by myself. But a part of me had also wondered if he felt it too, the openness in our conversation that had caused him to feel overwhelmed by the emotions of it. But as I stared at him across the bar, he didn't seem like the type of person to be afraid of his feelings and instead embraced them, something I had never learned to do.

"How'd you know I was here?" I asked, my words slurring. He gave me a crooked and curious smile that began to tear down the wall with the help of the whiskey that burned deep inside of me.

"Did you forget this is my bar? And that I live right upstairs," He said, pointing towards the ceiling. I felt the blush creep into my cheeks. "What are _you_ doing here, Bella?"

" _I'm_ allowed to drink," I stated matter-of-factly just as Charlie made his reappearance from the bathroom, stumbling into tables on his way back. "I let Charlie drink," I whispered as Edward turned to Charlie who continued to sway in the middle of the room as he tried to get back to the bar. He nodded, looking back to me with a look I couldn't quite place, "Go ahead and tell me I failed."

"You didn't fail," He said as the alcohol in my body began to run cold and the feeling of it carrying my problems away from me felt like nothing more than a loose barrier that began to leak as the dam threatened its way out from me.

"I did the one thing I was supposed to control," I said, looking back to Charlie who fell against the table, laughing uncontrollably at his lack of perception.

 _What had I done?_

I looked back to Edward, gripping onto the bar as I watched him begin to move around the opening as if he was walking towards me, as if he knew what was about to happen. "That was the one thing I could help him with. I don't know if I can get him out of his debt, I don't know if I can save the house, but I needed to help him … I needed to …" I slurred, feeling my body melt away as I began to submit to it, my shoulders relaxing as my eyes fluttered closed and my stomach churned.

"Bella?"

"I let him drink, and … I am _so_ not good at this." I laughed, gasping immediately when my vision went blurry, my hands slipping from the bar as I felt my body lurch forward.

Edward was a step ahead, his arms reaching out just before I fell to the ground. "Whoa, whoa," Edward said as he caught me in mid-fall, his arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me up to his level. My vision was still swaying in circles, my mind a chaotic, incoherent mess from the whiskey. A giggle escaped me as I relaxed into his grip. "You okay?" He said worriedly.

"Yeah," I nodded quickly, looking into his blazing emerald eyes. He held on so tight that it felt as if he was damn near consuming me, something I immediately noticed. And if I had been sober, the anxiety would have flared up, and I would have pushed him away to keep him at an arm's length where he couldn't hurt me. But the night had calmed me, the alcohol crumbling every inhibition I had when it came to Edward. We were so close that I could smell the minty-ness of his breath and the sandalwood of his cologne. It made me nearly breathless, my drunken state allowing me to grip around his arms that held me in place, fearing if I let go then he would too. A smile formed on his lips as he helped me onto the seat. I reflected his smile, feeling an unknown emotion swell inside of me.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that," He pointed out as I immediately reached up and covered my lips with my hand. He shook his head, grabbing my wrist gently to pull it away. "Don't hide it. It looks good."

"Don't do that," I whispered, shaking my head.

"Do what?" He said just as a crash echoed behind us. Edward turned immediately, but I was still in a trance, still motionless as he held my wrist in his grip, his skin a slight coolness that eased the warmth I felt. "Jazz, get him in the back," Edward said as he broke my trance, my head craning to the side to see the commotion.

Charlie had found himself on the floor, curled up underneath a table as Jasper went to aid him. A flash of a memory had invaded my brain, the image of him on the bathroom floor after drinking a bottle of mouthwash had startled me to the point that I stood quickly, finding my balance as Edward still held on, looking as if I were to fall at any second.

"Is he okay?" I asked, panicked as I wobbled my way to him, leaning down to help assist but failing and nearly falling to my knees.

"He's okay, just passed out. I'm going to take him to the couch in the back." Jasper said as I felt the tightness in my chest ease, my eyes looking up to him in worry. Was it too much? Did I take my guard down too fast and allow Charlie to overdrink to the point where it was deadly? Jasper could see the thoughts running through my head, his hand reaching up as if to tell me to calm down. "Bella, he's okay. He just needs to sleep it off." His tone was soft, his eyes reassuring as he reached down for Charlie who groaned in response.

I watched as Jasper put Charlie's arm around his neck, lifting his body so he could rest him against his side as they disappeared to the back behind the door.

"What the fuck?" I laughed through a gasp, my fingers twirling into my hair as I pulled, making my way to an empty table near the window to settle myself down, closing my eyes to make the room stop spinning.

 _What the hell was I doing?_

"Hey," Edward said as he placed something in front of me, my head lifting slightly to see the glass of water. Edward looked at me pointedly as he gestured to the glass. "You are going to need that."

"I can't do this," I said, shaking my head. "I can't do _that_!" I exclaimed as I pointed towards the door that Jasper disappeared behind with Charlie. "What the hell am I doing here?"

"You," Edward paused, pushing the glass of water towards me. "Are drunk and need to drink this."

"Can you be serious? You are the one always telling me that this is hopeless and the one time I'm feeling really shitty about this …"

"Is that what you think? I tell you just give up because it's hopeless?" He asked as I shrugged, watching as he pulled the chair out from across me, sitting himself down. "I don't know why you always think I'm against what you're doing."

"You told me he wouldn't change."

"I meant as an alcoholic, Bella. Charlie will always want alcohol, he will always drink. But there is a difference between an alcoholic and a functioning alcoholic. Charlie wasn't living before, he was just there with his drink and coasting through life. But since you've been here? Yeah, he's an alcoholic, but I can tell he's trying. And I didn't even get that from him." He finished.

"Functioning or not, it's all the same, isn't it?" I asked with a shrug.

"I can tell you that one is infinitely better than the other. Neither are ideal, but sometimes you have to take what you can get." He said.

I laughed emptily, rubbing my temples as I shook my head.

"I need another drink," I said as I moved from the table to the bar and reached for the bottle of whiskey Charlie had taken earlier. I poured my glass to the rim, wasting no time in shooting it back as if was nothing but a shot of water.

"As the owner of this bar, you are officially cut off." Edward was behind me as I turned to him.

"You can't be serious," I deadpanned.

"I am," He nodded. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Why are you such a,"

"A what?" He asked as he moved closer, his chest nearly touching mine. "A dick? An asshole?" His words were soft as his smile was warm, damn near warmer than the alcohol running through my body.

"A …" The words were caught in my throat at his proximity, something I had become increasingly aware of tonight. "Don't you get tired of this? Tired of fighting?"

"Always," He breathed.

"I feel like we are going in circles," I slurred as I made a circle motion with my pointer finger. Edward laughed with a nod, stepping away and my body reacted, stepping closer.

 _What am I doing?_

"Jasper, another shot." I sat myself down back on the bar stool, trying to ignore the feeling that brewed inside of me. Jasper, who was now returned from the back, flickered his gaze between Edward and me. "Seriously?"

"He's my boss," Jasper shrugged.

"Unbelievable," I growled, standing from the bar and minding my steps as I headed for the door, frustrated and wobbly. I gripped the wall and allowed it to guide me, finding the handle as I pushed it open and moved outside and into the cold.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Edward was behind me immediately, moving past me and blocking the exit. "Where are you going?"

"Home," I bit, "I will pick up Charlie tomorrow."

"You are not driving your car,"

"I'll walk."

"It's below freezing." He challenged.

"Then I'll call a cab."

"For just a few miles?"

"What? Should I go in the back and cozy up on the couch with Charlie?" I snorted as Edward blinked at me and then up at his apartment just above the bar. "Oh, no, no, no. I'll chance it walking home."

"Why are you so stubborn? I'll be up all night with the bar, I won't even sleep. My bed will be empty." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"I'm fine," I said, pushing past him just as lost my footing on my way out, gripping onto the door to steady myself. " _I'm fine_ ," I said again, almost as if I were convincing myself. "I'm almost sober now."

"Your breath says otherwise." He said as I brought my hand to cover my mouth. "Charlie would kill me if I let you go home like this. Just sleep it off for a few hours, and then you can go."

"I can walk – _ompf_!" In my attempt to leave and to prove how fine I was to walk on my own, I had tripped over the edge of the sidewalk where it meets the road. Edward had lurched forward, grabbing me just before I hit the concrete. At the odd angle, we both almost fell down, but I felt his large hands around me as I began to laugh, throwing my head back at my own stupidity.

"Jesus, Bella, just come on," He breathed, lifting me upright as he guided me towards the door of his apartment. I felt weightless in his arms, my body leaning against his for support as we tackled the task of his staircase.

"Did you forget how to use your feet?" He asked through a chuckle as I dragged myself along the stairs, gripping onto his shirt as we hit the last step at the top.

"Don't be a," _Hiccup_ , "Dick."

"Even drunk, you still call me names." He pointed out as we hit the foyer of the loft, his grip lessening. He sat me against the arm of his couch, giving me a stern look that told me not to move. I smiled at him and watched as he went into the small kitchen area, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He twisted it open on his way back, handing it to me. "The bathroom is back by the bed," He said, pointing down the loft where the plush, white bed resided. "I have to go down to the bar."

"You're just going to leave?" I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. Edward smiled, raising a brow.

"You want me to stay?"

"I mean, you can do whatever you want." I shrugged coolly.

"You want me to stay." He said again.

"I didn't say that!"

"Admit it, you like me a little." He smirked playfully, a sight that invoked a feeling I had been suppressing for so long. "I could have sworn you'd hate me forever."

"I do hate you." I lied. It was a big lie. One that I even told myself. And Edward caught me on my bluff instantly. He still had that same smile, the one that broke down every wall I tried so desperately to build. The energy between us crackled , and at that moment, I felt brave. The alcohol tore down any reservations I had and made me act on instinct rather than with thought.

I couldn't explain what happened next.

I lifted myself from the couch and pressed my body against Edward's. His eyes widened at my surprise action, but I didn't give him time to linger on it. I went in immediately, my lips crashing into his as my fingers dug into his shirt, pulling him closer. He was warmth and light and something that I desperately tried to keep myself away from at the risk of getting attached. But his lips felt like they fit mine perfectly, like something right out of a movie. And his scent filled my nose, my heart beating so fast that I could have sworn I was going to pass out. I felt his hands on me, holding my waist as he kissed me back. It was only for a moment – as if he realized almost immediately what was happening.

And then he was gone.

The warmth disappeared, and my body craved it, yearned for it. My eyes flew open to see Edward a few steps away, his fingers etching over his lips, as his eyes were wide with a look of fear.

 _Fear?_

It was too quiet. I could have sworn I heard my heart beating as if it was coming out right through my chest.

"Bella," He said through the silence. His eyes blazing with a look of anger. _Anger?_ Had I misread the moment? Was he seriously upset that I had kissed him? The silence took over the room again until Edward focused himself out of the trance, turning himself around, leaving me alone.

 _What the hell did I just do?_

* * *

 _AN: Firstly, I apologize for the extremely long wait. I started a statistics class and if anyone who has taken statistics, you should be able to relate to my pain. It has taken up the majority of my free time, but I was able to finally get this chapter done._

 _Thank you to everyone who has favorited, followed and commented on this story. I still have much to tell._

 _Shout out to my beta, Fran! I appreciate all that you do!_

 _See you next time..._


	9. Impasse

_Chapter Song - I Found by Amber Run_

 _"I'll use you as a warning sign,  
That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind._  
 _And I'll use you as a focal point,_  
 _So I don't lose sight of what I want._  
 _And I've moved further than I thought I could._  
 _But I missed you more than I thought I would_  
 _And I'll use you as a warning sign,_  
 _That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind."_

* * *

The headache was almost immediate, pulling me from my sleep as I woke with a groan, resting my arm over my eyes to escape from the light of the sun sinking in from the windows. I tried to fight off the nausea that swirled deep inside of me as I turned, feeling my skin sticking to the leather of the couch. I peeled myself off and set one foot on the floor as the thrumming of my headache made it difficult for me to focus on anything but the pain. When I felt a twist inside of me, I halted and gripped the back of the couch as I tried to reduce the dizziness I immediately felt the moment I began to rise. After two deep breaths, I opened my eyes to survey my surrounding, the memories of last night washing back to me as I realized I was still in Edward's loft.

I groaned, remembering the events, which had left me asleep on this couch. The embarrassment and shame spilled inside of me, but I had no time to dwell on it, the lurch in my stomach causing me to fling myself from my spot and clumsily make my way as quickly as I could to the bathroom. I emptied the alcohol and bile into the toilet, the stench of vomit instantly filling the air as I gripped onto the porcelain to keep myself upright.

Every time I thought I was finished, I somehow was able to expel more and I had given up on trying to move, sliding down onto the floor as I reached for the handle to flush. My body began to shake, my hand wiping the beads of sweat on my temples as the soreness in my abdominals made itself known along with my headache.

After a few minutes of basking on the cold tile, I lolled my head to the side and reached for the sink, using it to help climb from the floor. My fingers held tight onto the edge to keep myself from falling, my upper body nearly falling into it as I grabbed the faucet, running the cold water as I cupped it; washing it over my skin. The coolness gave me a temporary relief, my lips reaching down to wash out my mouth and rid what I could of the aftertaste of my sickness.

When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I almost made myself ill again. My brown hair was in heaps and tangles, my skin abnormally pale as the white of my eyes had turned red. The gold, bird pendant on my chest gleamed from the light, making the burn inside of me deepen more.

At that moment, I was more like Renee than I had ever been and I had no one to blame but myself.

How quick the regression was with Charlie at my failed attempt to keep myself together despite the circumstances. I had done everything I told myself not to do, everything I swore I would stay away from based off who my parents were. And when things got tough, I cracked. Just like them.

I scooped more water into my palms, avoiding the mirror as I ran the coolness onto the back of my neck, trying my best not to dive too far into the deep end of my mind.

But then the memory of a sloppy kiss invaded my brain...the sight of fiery, green eyes looking at me with such anger before he stalked away. I had misread the moment to be a tender one, one I wanted to cave into because I was desperate for any type of affection. But it was clear that Edward did not have the same intent, and instead felt nothing but what I could assume was disgust. I didn't blame him. After all, I was the poster child of a dysfunctional adult. After all my attempts to keep away from the path my parents had taken, it seems as if last night I followed them willingly.

As I wallowed in my mistakes, I heard a door open from beyond the bathroom, a set of feet running up the stairs as I quickly reached for the door, closing it to remain private. I pinched at the lock, turning it up as I realized there was no exit from here.

"Tanya, stop," A voice, Edward, said. I pressed my palms against the door, hearing a second pair of feet hit the top step and come into the loft. There was shuffling, things scratching and sliding against the floor as if the person was looking for something. "What are you looking for?"

"All of my shit!" The unfamiliar female voice screeched, followed by more rustling. "If you wanted me out of your life, you should have mailed it to me."

"I never said I wanted that," Edward groaned.

"Yeah," The woman laughed sarcastically, "You have a funny way of showing you still care."

"It has nothing to do with you,"

"That's bullshit, Edward!" She screamed just as glass shattered across the floor.

"Tanya, _stop_."

"You are so busy trying to forget about everything that happened! About Eclipse, James, and Seattle that you didn't stop and think about how forgetting the past meant that you were trying to forget me! I was there with you, Edward! After all the things we went through! Do you think you can just wipe that away? Do you think you could just forget about Maggie?" She cried.

"Do _not_ bring her into this," Edward bit, a warning in his tone.

"Fuck you! And fuck this righteous path you think you're on!"

The room went quiet, my breathing slowing to avoid making myself known. It felt intrusive to be listening in on what seemed to be a very intimate moment, and it was clear whoever this woman was, was someone who had been deeply attached to Edward's past, one I knew very little about.

"I'm not going to apologize for getting myself clean and getting out of there." Edward broke the silence, "I tried to get you out too -"

"That's bullshit, and you know it. You left me there because you knew you couldn't get clean with me at your side." She accused.

"I can't keep apologizing for my mistakes to you, Tanya. I don't owe you anything anymore." His tone was set, his words unmoving like stone as the woman began to sniffle, a sob catching in her throat.

"You owe me _everything_. Starting with my girl."

Just as the room became quiet again, a vibration in my pocket caught me off guard, my body jumping at the sudden feeling of my phone as I stepped back, my foot hitting the small garbage can by the sink as it clattered onto its side and scattered across the floor. I cursed under my breath, reaching for my phone as I silenced the call from Phil.

"Tanya,"

"Who the fuck is in there?"

"Tanya!" Edward shouted as she became closer, her steps growing louder until the doorknob tried to turn, stuck from the lock. Fists pounded at the wood as I stumbled backward and into the wall.

"Get out here and face me, you slut!" She screamed, now kicking at the door.

"Tanya, stop!" Edward growled, a shuffling silencing the pounding as the woman shouted a string of curses. "Get out, _now_."

"He's going to use you just like he used me and everything else in his life!" She shouted angrily, her voice carrying as she moved farther away. "Mail me my shit, Edward!"

The pounding of the staircase followed by a slamming door indicated she had left, leaving nothing but silence behind. With my back against the wall, I tried to absorb what had just happened. It was clear to me now more than ever that Edward had a sordid past I didn't know about and a part of me, despite what happened last night didn't _want_ to know. Following the silence, two knocks at the door grabbed my attention, my eyes darting to the knob that tried to turn.

"Bella?" Edward asked through the door. "I know you're in there." With the little energy I had, I pushed myself from the wall and smoothed down my hair, reaching for the lock and cracked the door. Edward had stepped away, lingering near the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. I pushed the door open enough to allow myself out, mustering a tight smile. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I answered shortly.

"I'm sorry about …" He trailed off, his lips settling with a frown that I had an urge to smooth away. "I know you heard."

"I didn't -"

"I know. It's fine. Just my demons catching up to me," He sighed, uncrossing his arms to scrub at his face. "How are you feeling?" He asked, dropping his hands to show his emerald eyes.

"Like shit," I forced a chuckle to which he responded with a smile. Silence grew between us, an awkwardness lingering at unspoken words I felt were clawing their way out. Despite his altercation with the woman, Tanya, his demeanor seemed to change from when I last saw him leaving me in his apartment.

"I'm sorry about - "

"Are you hungry?"

We said at the same time, my eyebrows furrowing at his question.

"Hungry?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah," He laughed, "You know, for food?"

"I just …" I began, stopping before I said too much. _I just thought you hated me_. His constant mood swings were beginning to give me whiplash, his sudden change from hot to cold leaving me more confused than ever. "I should really get Charlie and go home," I said as I began across the loft, grabbing my jacket, which hung on the back of the couch.

"Charlie's already home. I took him back about an hour ago, you were still sleeping." Edward said.

"What?"

"He was ready for another round. I told him the bar was closed and offered to give him a ride back," He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets as he took a step towards me. "I was hoping we could talk about last night before you go."

"Oh," I forced a laugh, shaking my head. "We don't need to talk about _that_. I was drunk, and I don't ever drink, so it goes right to me."

"Bella,"

"Seriously," I said, my tone set. "Don't worry about it. Let's just forget it happened."

"I just want to be able to explain …"

"I need to go," I said, trying to save face and avoid any conversation about his dismissal. Edward frowned just as my headache began to make itself known once again. I stepped to side and out of his way as I aimed for the stairs. "Thank you for letting me sleep here. I appreciate it."

It was the last thing I said before I made my departure, despite him calling after me.

When I had returned home, Charlie was passed out on his recliner, a bottle of whiskey tucked gently in the crevice of his arm as baseball reruns played on the TV. I wanted to spare an argument, and instead spent the better part of the rest of the day nursing my hangover, eating as little I could and taking Advil as much as possible. I found sleeping was the only thing that kept the nausea and headaches away, but I was plagued with a restlessness that drove me to damn near insanity. The events of last night and my mistakes were haunting me to the point where they were entering my dreams, mixing with my memories of my mother. Several times I woke in a panic, sweating and panting as I had to float myself back down to reality.

I felt as if I was at an impasse with no one to help me through it. Charlie would always be an alcoholic, the house would be lost, and his future would be determined by the events that would follow. I even contemplated taking him back to Phoenix with me, but I knew the conversation would be useless. His roots were in Forks, and so he must stay.

My attempt to save my father was dwindling by the second with no help from me. Charlie seemed to be a lost cause when battling his addictions, and I tossed and turned with this revelation for hours.

I was useless to his vices. They would win. They would always win.

When I was fed up with battling my body to sleep, I decided to try and see if I could keep anything down without throwing it back up. As I waited for my toast to finish in the toaster, Charlie had stumbled his way into the kitchen to grab a beer.

"Want one?" He offered as I shook my head. "You wouldn't have said no last night." He joked.

"Last night was a one-time occurrence," I advised, grabbing the butter from the fridge.

"Admit you had fun with your old man," He smirked as he popped open his beer against the edge of the counter, still disabled by the sling on his arm. He took a large swig as I shot him a glare. "It's okay to have fun, Bella. You'll live a bit longer."

"You won't." I dead-panned.

"Don't start that shit," He huffed.

"I made a mistake last night, Charlie. It's not going to happen again. I've come to terms with the fact that I can't force you to stop drinking, so you won't get any fight from me anymore." I advised as his eyes lit up, a small, satisfactory smile playing at his lips.

"I told you I am a lost cause, Bella. It's better you find out now." He shrugged as my toast popped up from the slits. "Your attempt was admirable, though."

"Don't condescend me." I snapped as he raised his hand in surrender.

"I'm not being a dick. I'm just saying it's hard for someone like me to overcome this. And even if you got me sober, not even a beer, I would have relapsed." He shrugged, the truthfulness in his words giving me no reason to doubt him. I finished buttering my toast, grabbing my plate and walking to the kitchen table. As I sat down, tearing off a small corner piece as I popped it into my mouth. The taste was foreign, the texture making my stomach churn and I knew immediately I couldn't go through with this.

"Just because I gave up on your alcoholism, doesn't mean I'm not going to help you with the house. We need to make a plan to get you back on your feet, and that starts with a job." I pointed out as Charlie scrunched his nose, leaning against the counter.

"I can't work like this," He said, nodding to his arm.

"You can go look for a job, that thing will be off in a few weeks. And when you get a job, we'll start paying the mortgage." I began, "You have to make a change, Charlie. Or you will lose the house."

"A job in a few weeks isn't going to help with the foreclosure that will start here soon without a large fucking payment. Where am I going to get the money to stop that from happening?" He questioned with a raised brow.

"Maybe we can talk to the bank and maybe because of your situation, we can get an extension."

A knock at the door had grabbed the attention of both of us as I slid the chair out and stood, making my way to the front. Opening it, I was met with wild green eyes that froze me almost instantly.

"Edward," I said, surprised. He was dressed in his winter coat, his bronze hair swept in all different directions as he looked at me with a determined stare.

"Whiskey," It was all he said, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"What?" I questioned, looking over my shoulder to see Charlie hovering in the kitchen. I took a step out, closing the door behind me.

"On your breath," He began, "The whiskey on your breath when you kissed me. That's why I acted the way I did." His eyes turned somber, almost as if he were embarrassed. Looking back to the memory, I realized his anger wasn't necessarily placed at me, even if it was my fault, but instead on what I had been doing and what I carelessly tried to do. While the shame seemed to dissipate, guilt replaced it by tenfold. I had kissed a recovering alcoholic with whiskey on my breath, something he was so desperately trying to avoid. "I wanted to kiss you back … I even _started_ to. But when I tasted it, I didn't want to kiss you for the wrong reasons. I had to hold myself back, and that's not on you. I didn't know how to explain it, so I left."

"Edward …"

"You don't have to apologize," He said matter-of-factly, guessing my next words. I crossed my arms, protecting myself from the cold and the guilt began to eat away at me. How many mistakes could I make in one night? It seemed as if I lost count. "I just needed you to know."

"Are you okay?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, yeah. I called my sponsor, and we talked through it. It was all I needed," He took a step up on the stairs, my mind drawing red flags that urged me to take a step back as his sudden proximity grew closer by the second. But my feet were planted still, my heart hammering inside of my chest as his green eyes bore down into me, rendering me damn near speechless like a schoolgirl. "I have a _lot_ of shit going on, things from my past that keep circling back to me."

"What -"

"And I can't outrun them. Eventually, I'm going to have to face them, and I will. But I needed you to know that last night wasn't because of you. And if the circumstances were different, if you weren't drunk," He chuckled, forcing a blush from me, "I would have kissed you back."

"This is not a good idea," I whispered as he stepped closer, our bodies only a foot apart. It was my mind, trying to put up a fight. But his nearness had become overwhelming, the emerald of his eyes calling to me and asking me to open up for him. My walls started to crack, light shining through as I tried my best to keep myself together.

"Is that what you thought last night? Despite being drunk, I know you were still coherent. I know that wasn't impulsive."

"You don't know that."

"Then tell me you haven't been feeling the same way I have been since we met. Even if all we do is fight." He whispered with a playful smile, reaching out to grab my arm, holding me in place. His smile had dissipated, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at me. "Tell me you don't feel any of it and I'll go."

The words were caught in my throat, my eyes searching his; a desperate attempt to ask him to just _let it go_. But the bigger part of me begged him to come forward, to get as close as he could because I could feel it too. The little signs, the foreign feeling in the depth of my stomach and the need to feel like I had to build a wall around him. Not because of him, but because of me and how I felt to be near him. It was why I acted the way I did, why I always picked a fight to push him away, to turn him off as much as I could so I could sit safely behind the fortress I had built to keep him out. But he found his way in, somehow, someway. And I wasn't sure if I could deny it any longer.

"I feel it," I admitted softly, the mere whisper carrying into the trees beyond us. Edward smiled, the same smile that made my heart hammer despite my mind telling me to run from the sudden intimate moment. I chose to ignore it, feeling his hands running down my covered arms at his attempt to keep me warm. "I don't know how to do this."

"You think I do?" He laughed, shaking his head. "I'm just as clueless as you are, Bella."

"We _can't_ do this," My mind made one last attempt at pushing away, but Edward gripped onto me, keeping me still.

"Stop overthinking. Just … Be." He implored.

"I'm not staying in Forks. I'll be leaving eventually." I admitted, my voice catching in my throat. Edward nodded, dropping his head with a shrug before looking up to me.

"Then we have now."

"There is so much going on with you and with me. I have Charlie, I'm trying to save the house. And then there's your relationship with him and that woman from this morning … " I doubted, trying to pull myself away.

"I'll answer any question you ask," He said with a nod, trying to find any loophole he could to keep me standing in front of him. "I don't know what this is either, but I'm not going to be afraid to find out. Are you?"

"It's just, I have everything -"

"Stop thinking about everyone else, Bella. Think for yourself. Feel for yourself. What do _you_ want?" He challenged, the wind around us picking up as the coldness seeped into my bones. I was never one to make an impulse decision, and through my life, I made sure I took my time to come to a precise answer. This was the product of being a child with parents who always acted on instinct rather than logic. And after seeing how their lives turned out, I swore I wouldn't be the same. But standing there with Edward, hearing his words, I couldn't help but think of my mother, of a conversation we had some weeks before she died.

" _You are always so busy looking into every single detail, that you never see the big picture, Bella."_ My mom's voice was as clear a day, almost springing tears to my eyes. _"Stop deciding with your mind and let your heart get a chance every once in a while."_

" _I just want to be sure, mom."_

" _I know. But sometimes, things aren't meant to spend days mulling over. Sometimes it's better to make an impulsive decision and trust your gut. What is it telling you?"_

And it was as if he read my mind, as if we were like magnets. One second we were apart and the next we were crushed together, hands reaching and grabbing while our lips met each other. Everything about him set me on fire, from the warmth of his body and the taste of his lips that were of peppermint and tobacco. I could hear the wind picking up, but I couldn't feel an ounce of its coldness. He shielded me for protection, and we began to move, his arms wrapping around my waist as I felt a flat surface against my back. His hands found my jaw, resting behind my ears as he deepened the kiss, coaxing me to open up. I listened to my gut, allowing myself to be vulnerable in hopes I wouldn't regret it.

In the fine frenzy of our sudden but amorous joining, Edward pulled away just slightly enough to come back for a chaste kiss on my swollen lips. I reached up, setting my hands over his that rested on my cheeks, my fingers wrapping into his as I realized the line we had just crossed, not knowing if there was ever a way back.

However, in this moment, I didn't seem to care.

* * *

 _AN: Shout out to those who had favorited, followed and commented. I am always eager to read what you guys say and your predictions of where this story will go._

 _Thank you to my beta, Fran! You keep me honest in my writing and I am very much appreciative._

 _Until next time,_

 _\- ii_


	10. Unknown

_Chapter Song - Count Me In by Early Winters_

 _"Half a mile out, knee deep in._  
 _Hooked on a dream that is reelin' me in._  
 _Oh, is this how we begin?"_

* * *

"How is Charlie doing?" Phil sighed into the phone just as something clanked in the background, curse words barely silenced under his breath as I rolled my eyes. I knew he was in the garage back in Phoenix, putting his frustrations into the motorcycles he liked to fix so much. Anytime he was stressed, whether it be money issues, spats at work, fights with my mom, and even her death, that's where he always found himself when he needed to blow off steam. I sat in my car, my thumb tapping along the steering wheel as I stared at the building just across from me, my eyes focusing down on the clock reading ten till nine in the morning.

"He's fine," I shrugged. "He's going to be getting his cast off today, and hopefully that means he'll start looking for a job." Despite my even tone, I knew Phil didn't believe my hopes when it came to Charlie. And even through the very small progression I've witnessed since I've been here, I knew it wasn't enough. "How is everything at home?"

"Everything is the same here, work is going fine. Janice keeps trying to stock my fridge with her food, though." He made a slight gagging noise, one that made me smile as I remembered my Gram's horrible cooking. "The worst was the spaghetti, tasted like cardboard and oregano." He said as I laughed, feeling my heart swell at the small things like Gram's spaghetti and Phil's reaction to it. "She keeps asking when you're coming home," He said nonchalantly, though, his attempt to dig for information was anything but subtle.

"There's just a lot going on," I admitted, rubbing my temple.

"Well, you know your grandmother," He paused, "Always a worrier."

"I'm fine," I sniffed, "You can tell her I'm going to help Charlie get a job, get him back on his feet, and once he is settled I'll come home. Before the holidays," I nodded, though, I knew it probably wasn't true.

"You better be right about that. There is no way I'm tackling Janice's Thanksgiving by myself." He said as I laughed, my chest aching with an emptiness where Phoenix used to be. God, I missed it. I missed Phil and his corny jokes and his mellow attitude, one that was able to calm anyone, even my mother. Phil and I reminisced over the times eating Gram's horrible cooking, or how, when Mom told Gram her cookies tasted like dirt but then felt so bad she ate half a plate of them to make her feel better.

I didn't cry. I willed myself to keep my sadness caged up inside of me, even at the mention of Mom. Phil was the only one I could do that with, to think of the good times with her. It was a relief to feel the happiness instead of the bitterness I felt when I thought of her while I was alone, or spoke about her with Charlie. That was the other thing about Phil, he brought out the goodness in people even when you couldn't see it yourself.

At nine, we said our goodbyes just as I turned the ignition off, watching as a woman in heels walked up to the glass doors of the building across the lot, unlocking them for customers. I chewed on my bottom lip, my left thumb drumming against my steering wheel to an unknown beat as I stared down at my other hand, a small card in-between my pointer and thumb. I fanned it a few times, glancing back up to the store and back down at the card, reading the silver metallic text across the front.

 _J. Jenks_

 _Banking Specialist, 360-XXX-XXXX_

I turned the card over, reading the scratchy handwriting that belonged to myself.

 _Monday, 9am_

I had defied Charlie before, didn't listen to him when he said things, went behind his back when I needed to, but this was something I knew was unforgivable. And despite all the shit he has dragged me through, I knew he was a prideful man. He didn't take help unless it was someone buying him a drink, and he was extremely explicit when it came to money. But, I felt as if I were at a crossroads. Soon, the bank would come for the house, and there was nothing I could do to stop them. And I knew the risks. Damnit, did I know the risks. Opening a loan in my name, knowing I would have to pay it and wouldn't get a cent back.

But if I didn't at least cough up enough to pay the bank back for the months missed, Charlie would be thrown into the streets.

And so, continues my dilemma as I sit in my car, hesitating on my next steps. I stopped tapping my thumb, exhaling as I dropped my head back against the headrest behind me and I reflected on my conversation with Charlie from this past Friday morning.

 _I sat at the kitchen table, taking a sip of my coffee as I rummaged through the mail, stopping just shy of a white envelope marked 'last attempt' in red. I slit the paper open and pushed it out, reading the exact same message from a few weeks ago when I found Charlie's mail. I pushed my fingers through my hair as I leaned back, noticing the date October 15_ _th_ _, 2017 in big, black, bolded letters._

 _September 27_ _th_ _, we had nineteen days to pay it._

 _Coming down the stairs in loud creaks, Charlie made his way into the kitchen, his eyes lighting at the sight of the coffee pot. Eagerly, he made his way and poured himself a cup, not before sneaking a shot of whiskey into it._

" _I saw that," I said, leaning back down to the table as I picked up the paper from the mortgage company. "You got this."_

" _What is it?" He asked as he reached over just as I extended my arm, his eyes scanning over the first few words before he huffed, passing it back to me. "Don't worry about it, Bella."_

" _You are not working, you are handicapped, and you won't even entertain the idea of me helping – "_

" _Absolutely not," Charlie cut me off, "It's too early for this bullshit, Bella."_

" _Isn't it too early for that?" I asked, gesturing to the whiskey bottle behind him. Charlie shrugged, moving off the counter to the seat across from me as he sipped his mug. "What are you going to do, Charlie?"_

" _I don't know," He admitted, "But I don't want to stress about it first thing in the goddamn morning. At least give me an hour to drink."_

" _Just hear me out, okay? I just want you to listen to all of your options because if this isn't paid by the fifteenth, then they are going to come and take your house. And you will be out on the streets, and I can guarantee you, you won't be able to crash on the couch at Masen's twenty-four seven." I stated, Charlie's eyes glued to his coffee. "If you let me open a loan for you and I can get your past due amounts paid and maybe even a few months more, it will give you time to find a job and pay me back."_

 _Charlie shook his head, his mustache twitching as he closed his eyes in contemplation. It stayed silent for a few moments before his chair scratched against the floor, his arm reaching behind him to grab the whiskey bottle on the counter. He unscrewed the cap, tilting the bottle and pouring more into his black coffee, glancing up to me in just enough time to offer me the bottle. I shot him a glare, his lips turning up at the corner of his mouth as he set it in-between us._

 _Charlie took a large gulp, followed by several sips until he felt content enough, relaxed enough with the whiskey entering through his system. I watched as he set his mug down, his eyes opening, already beginning to redden around the white._

" _I don't want to take hand-outs, especially from my daughter. I will make it work, I will find the money, I don't need you to worry about me," He said, his tone adamant and final. I bit back a groan and a curse, wanting to scream at him for being so hard headed, but I knew it was futile. Despite his lack of fatherly responsibilities and alcoholism, Charlie was too prideful to let me just give him the money._

" _Fine," I ground through my teeth, crossing my arms over my chest. "Then can I ask you for something else?" I questioned as he rolled his eyes, bringing his mug up to take a sip. "I want you to go back to AA," My request caused him to choke on his coffee, droplets of liquid flying across the table and hitting my skin. "Really, Charlie?" I sighed, wiping the coffee from my skin arm as he set the mug down, bringing his fist to his mouth, coughing heavily._

" _I thought we were over this, Bella," Charlie groaned, reaching for the napkins from the wooden dispenser in the middle of the table, wiping his mouth._

" _I told you I wouldn't push you anymore, but if you are refusing to take my money and my help, then you need to find it somewhere else," I began, "Forks is a small town, any work you find will have an employer that knows your history. But if you go to AA, you can use that as your advantage. Give them a reason not to decline you for a job."_

" _Bella, if you think this is going to change …"_

" _No, I don't think it's going to change anything. I'm just trying to think of ways to rebrand you around this town. I guess you can call it a shortcut," I shrugged, watching as his eyes lit up in amusement._

" _I always hated that nickname. Charlie Short Cut Swan." He huffed, shaking his head._

" _If the shoe fits," I countered. "Edward said he would be more than willing to have you back."_

" _Edward, huh?" Charlie hummed as my eyes narrowed at him. "Is that what you two were talking about on my front porch last night?" He asked as I felt the heat in my cheeks rise, the tenderness in my lips tingle at the memory of the porch kiss with Edward. I berated myself for bringing him up at all, but tried to play it off as I gave Charlie a nonchalant shrug._

" _You are going off topic," I said pointedly._

" _Okay, I'll tell you what," Charlie inched closer into the table, resting his elbows on top. "I'll go to AA, if you promise to stop bringing up the bills. Deal?"_

 _Charlie lifted his good arm, his fingers clenched together except for his pinky, lifting out to me in offering. His gesture brought back a rush of memories, ones I remembered from my childhood when he would promise minuscule things to me such as ice cream after dinner, or that he'd make it in time to pick me up after school or even that he'd play with me after he woke up from his drink-induced nap._

 _His pinky promises rarely came true, but I still indulged him and wrapped mine around his, even if I knew I wasn't going to keep it._

" _Deal."_

"Mr. Jenks is ready for you, Ms. Swan," The receptionist, Irina, said as she showed me the way down the hallway and to the office I had just visited several days ago with Charlie in tow. Irina knocked on the door, stepping aside to allow me a view of Jenks who rested in his leather chair, it crunching under pressure as he gave me a knowing smile, opening his arms wide to me.

"Ms. Swan, I can't say I am surprised to see you. Please, have a seat," He boasted as I sat in the chair across from his desk, sinking into the leather. "I'm glad you decided to call."

"I didn't really have a choice," I said, honestly.

"We never do when our parents are in trouble, hmm?" His tone lowered, feigning empathy. "I'm sure Charlie is extremely appreciative to have a caring daughter such as yourself," He smiled, trying to cushion the blow of the reality I was facing. Little did he know the reaction this would cause in Charlie if he knew what I was doing behind his back.

Trying not to think of the ticking time bomb, I straightened my back and cleared my throat, "Were you able to get me anything with the information I provided?"

"Yes," Jenks smiled, reaching for a folder as he grabbed a paper and slid it across the mahogany wood toward me, "I am able to offer you a twelve-thousand-dollar loan with a fixed, six percent interest rate with Lending Club. It will be for thirty-six months, and your monthly payment will be three-hundred and forty-seven dollars."

"And how soon will I get the money?" I asked, looking through the sheet he provided me.

"By the end of the week," He assured as he pushed a pen across the desk and within my reach. I read through the fine print once more as if the text on the paper was going to magically rewrite itself. But, I knew my hesitation was stemmed from what signing this would entail if it were to ever come to light. When the bank doesn't come for the house in a few weeks, he'll know something happened. I conjured up enough of an excuse to buy myself time, to help him get a job so he would be able to start putting money towards the house, to cover up a lie.

And as I sat there and didn't think of all the reasons why I shouldn't, all I could think of was of all the reasons why I should.

I told myself not to plant roots in Forks, to get in and get out as soon as I could to avoid binding myself to this place. But, it was clear that there was no chance for me, Bella Swan, the fixer. Brought up by addicts who she cared for until she was almost eleven, she was infused with the urge to heal. The moment I saw Charlie, I knew it was over for me.

The moment I met Edward, it was over for me.

"Ms. Swan?" Jenks brought me out of my haze, my chin tilting upwards as I hummed a response. "Is everything okay?"

I reached for the pen, feeling the weight of it between my fingers as I nodded, clearing my throat. I slid the paper up, leveling the blank line with the ballpoint of my pen and then I lowered it, the ink moving so effortlessly as my signature laid in its wake. There was no turning back now.

"Everything's fine."

xx

Masen's was still closed by the time I reached it at ten thirty, though I spotted Emmett through the glass window as he wiped down the bar, preparing to open at noon. I knocked on the glass twice, waving once I caught his attention and he beamed at me, damn near jumping over the bar to get to the door and unlock it.

"I'm sensing a bit of _déjà vu_ ," He joked, the top of his head bouncing in small curls as his grin was infectious. "If you are looking for Charlie, he's not here."

"Hey, Emmett." I laughed, "I'm actually looking for Edward."

"Edward?" His face contorted in confusion as I nodded, "He's in the back. You can come in." Emmett stepped to the side, allowing me to step into the bar, when, to my surprise, soft, instrumental music filtered through the room that seemed uncharacteristically like him. I looked back at Emmett who rolled his eyes, making a beeline back to the bar. "Edward listens to this when he's doing the bookkeeping, and he puts it through the stereo system. It's bullshit, in my opinion."

"It's kind of sad," I commented, the piano increasing to a crescendo only to drop back to steady notes, a type of melody that could bring tears to your eyes.

"It's depressing," Emmett blanched as he wiped down a few glasses. "Can I get you something to drink? A little birdy told me you liked whiskey," He waggled his eyebrows, but I shook my head quickly.

"Coffee, if you have it. And _that_ will never happen again," I said pointedly, referring to the other night here at Masen's, as Emmett smirked, turning to the pot in the corner and grabbing me a mug.

"Like father like daughter," He laughed as I forced a smile, knowing that he meant it as a joke. He turned, sliding me the cup and I immediately took a sip, the coffee warming me instantly. "So, you and Edward?"

"What?" I feigned confusion, but something told me that Emmett knew better.

"This is a small town, Bella." Emmett began, "Also, he hasn't shut up about you."

"Really?" I felt a surge inside of me, my curiosity peaking as Emmett reflected it with an inward smirk. I tried to hide my smile, pressing my lips together as I cleared my throat. "What has he said?"

"It's extremely important that you do not answer that question," A voice from behind caused us both to turn, looking as Edward stood in the doorway that led into the back hallway. As always, the crimson of his hair was in disarray from what seemed to be his fingers constantly going through it, his green eyes holding a light that I could see clear across the room. The sleeves of his dark sweater bunched up by his elbows, showing off his pale skin, which illuminated from the morning light filtering into the bar. As cliché as it was, even I could admit what the sight of him did to me, and it felt as if I was going to puke butterflies.

"Well, I'm not going to lie to her. I mean, I remember when I told you about her coming into the bar to look for Charlie, you couldn't stop asking questions." He stammered as Edward pinched the bridge of his nose, his pale cheeks flushing with pink. "And then the other day, with Jazz, you asked about if she was si— "

"Shut the fuck up, Emmett," Edward growled as Emmett made an O shape with his lips. I looked to him, covering my laugh as he brought his hands up in surrender. "I need you to run a few checks to the post office, can you do that for me?"

"I know you're just trying to get rid of me," Emmett accused.

"You're damn right," Edward countered as he walked closer to the bar, throwing a few envelopes to him. My body reacted to his proximity almost immediately, the scent of sandalwood mixed with peppermint, one that brought goosebumps to my skin. And then, I felt him, his hand making its way under the bar and to my knee as he kept his concentration on Emmett.

"All right, I can take a hint," Emmett gathered the envelopes and then his jacket just before turning back to us. "You know, we're all meeting Rose in Seattle tonight for a show... Jazz, Alice and me. You guys should come."

"We have plans," Edward said as I turned my head towards him in question. He looked back at me, his eyes apologetic at his assumption. "At least, I hope we do."

"Doesn't look like it," Emmett joked as Edward turned back to him with a stone-cold glare. "All right, all right – I'm out of here. Just make sure if guys decide to fuck on the bar, you do it before I get back."

"Out," Edward barked as I couldn't contain my laughter, covering my mouth as Emmett nearly ran out the front door. Edward pinched the bridge of his nose once again, a visual representation of his frustration and annoyance. But once Emmett left, he dropped his hand, turning towards me with a satisfied smile, his body leaning in as his hand squeezed at my knee, but just as he was almost to my lips, I pulled away.

"What did you ask Emmett and Jasper?" I questioned as he stopped, raising a brow in confusion. When clarity hit him, he groaned, stepping back.

"Really?" He whined as I nodded. "I asked if they knew if you were single."

"You did?" I laughed as he rolled his eyes, removing his hand.

"I'm going to kill him," Edward snarled, shaking his head in frustration. I smiled as I slid out of the chair, reaching for his hand to gain his attention. Like magnets, his body was drawn to mine, his free hand lifted as it made its way behind my jawline to cup my cheek, leaning in to press his lips against my smile. He was warm, so warm that I felt inclined to grab a fistful of his sweater and bring him as close as I possibly could.

It was pure intoxication. I didn't know how else to describe it, how it felt to be near him this way. My mind rationalized it to the fear of the unknown, something that I wasn't used to and it was exciting. I was so used to living my life a certain way, but with the series of unfortunate events that have played out in the past several months, it was becoming clear that the foundation I relied so heavily on was cracking. But, in these moments with him – I didn't care. I was enjoying the unknown.

It was Edward who pulled away, my hands dropping from the fistfuls of his sweater as our gaze connected. He thumbed my bottom lip, rubbing against the swollenness of it as he pecked my nose.

"We have plans tonight?" I asked as he nodded, giving me an impish grin.

"I was hoping I could take you out, just us. If you're not busy," He said, his arm wrapping around my waist.

"I have no plans," I stated as he smiled, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek. I grabbed ahold of him, catching his cheeks as I brought him in for another kiss, something that I was craving even though I just had it. Edward was all but willing, pushing me back up onto the chair as he stood between my legs, coaxing my mouth open as I obliged, tangling my fingers in the back of his hair. "Are we crazy?" I managed to whisper as I pulled away from his lips.

"I don't think so," He hummed, pecking me once more.

"I have a lot of questions."

"Me, too."

"Who was that woman the other day?" I blurted, catching Edward's attention. He hesitated before his arms went loose, the loss of contact causing me to crave it more, my body vibrating to feel him again but I stayed put, watching as he pulled up the stool next to mine.

"She's my ex. Tanya." He said truthfully, looking up to me with his bright, green eyes. "I have a lot of skeletons from my past, Bella," He warned.

"She still wants you," I stated.

"I don't want her," He assured. "She is from my past, and I'd rather keep her there. She shows up every once and a while, but I turn her down."

"Is she …"

"An addict? Yes," He said, his jaw tightening. "Heroin, mostly."

"Were you …" I trailed off, but Edward shook his head.

"No. My vice was alcohol. I did enjoy coke from time to time, but I knew not to fuck with heroin," He nodded, my stature tightening as I felt an uneasiness with his candor. He sensed this and softened. "I'll always be honest with you, Bella."

"I know," I sighed, feeling the knot inside of me twist. "It's just, with my parents …"

"You're scared," He interjected with a nod, understanding my dilemma of mixing myself with someone who had been previously relied on a substance to live. I looked up to him, pressing my lips together, "I am three years clean, Bella. I don't ever plan to relapse. It was a dark time in my life, fueled by my own issues. But I understand your hesitation, especially with Charlie." He leaned forward, grabbing my hand that sat on my lap and squeezed it tightly. "You said it yourself, this is new to you. It's new to me. We don't have to air everything out right here. It's too damn early for that. Let's at least wait until tonight, so if one of us says something completely off the wall at dinner, the other can pretend to go to the bathroom and bail." He joked as I laughed with him, shaking my head.

"I won't run if you don't," I told him as he smiled, sliding off the bar stool.

"Don't make promises you can't keep. You haven't heard everything yet," He smirked, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. "I've got a few errands; can I pick you up around six?"

"I haven't told Charlie yet," I warned as I slipped off the barstool, the two of us walking towards the front door, "He may answer the door with his shotgun."

"He has a shotgun?" Edward questioned as I nodded. "It'll be useless with that cast on his arm."

"He's getting it off today," I challenged, "Don't worry, I'll hide the bullets."

"Funny," He breathed, rolling his eyes. We lingered by the front door, his lips finding mine once again as we shared our goodbye with touches and caresses, a feeling that I hadn't realized I craved so much.

I berated myself for being _that_ girl because with every step towards my car and away from him made me want him that much more. And while my logical side criticized me, the new, overpowering feelings I felt outweighed my logic so much more.

I was in deep with him. It was as if I was becoming tethered into the unknown. And when I was with him, I didn't care.

For the first time in years, Bella Swan was throwing caution to the wind.

* * *

 _AN: Thank you those who have followed, favorited and reviewed. Your words are so very appreciated and I am eager to hear what you think._

 _A thank you to my Beta, Fran! She is such a gem!_

 _I sat down the other night and planned the rest of my chapters (Something I am not used to doing!), I am a very go with the flow type of writer but I decided with this story I needed more structure. So, as long as everything goes according to plan, this story will be 22 chapters long with an epilogue. With that being said, we are almost half way through! I have a lot of exciting things to write coming up and I am so eager for you guys to read where this story is going to go._

 _For those who are wondering, in this chapter, the instrumental piece Edward was listening to was Fuori dal Mondo by Ludovico Einaudi. I encourage everyone to listen to this beautiful piece and the artist._


	11. Glass

_Chapter Song - Trouble I'm In by Twinbed_

 _I wanna feel your touch,_  
 _It's burning me like an ember._  
 _Pretending it's not enough,_  
 _I wanna feel us together._  
 _So, I'm giving in, to the trouble I'm in._  
 _You are, you are_  
 _My favorite medicine._  
 _You are, you are_  
 _You'll let the hedge begin._  
 _You are, you are_  
 _Just one last time again._  
 _You are, you are_  
 _You are the trouble I'm in._

* * *

From the plastic chair across the room, I watched as Dr. Cullen produced a small electric saw from the metal table near the bed where Charlie was seated. He then instructed Charlie to hold out his arm and keep it still as the saw began to buzz to life sliding down the plaster cast on Charlie's arm while blowing debris in the air. Once it was split, he pulled it off, discarding it behind him as he gently drew Charlie's wrist toward him, testing his strength. Dr. Cullen's fingers maneuvered and applied pressure while waiting for a reaction from his patient, who smugly sat at the end of the bed.

"No pain?" Dr. Cullen asked as Charlie shook his head. "What about tension?"

"It feels sore, but that's probably because it's been in the same goddamn position for weeks," Charlie hissed as I rolled my eyes, Carlisle smiling as he glanced between the two of us.

"Yes, well, maybe you will think twice about getting behind the wheel while inebriated." Dr. Cullen countered as Charlie huffed.

"How does it look?" I asked Dr. Cullen who continued to inspect, setting his arm down as he grabbed hold of his clipboard and wrote notes.

"So far, so good. I'm going to have him do a few tests with some weights just to see if there is any lasting damage," Dr. Cullen said as Charlie's eyes slightly bulged.

"Weights? I should have poured more whiskey in my coffee this morning," Charlie said playfully, despite the truthful undertone.

"Can I assume you started lowering your alcohol intake like we spoke about last time?" Dr. Cullen asked with a raised brow, Charlie giving him a coy smile.

"Absolutely, especially with my ball and chain over here," He gestured towards me.

"I think the words you are looking for are _thank you_ ," I shot back as Dr. Cullen bit back a smirk, writing a few more notes on his pad. "We tried removing alcohol completely, but as you can tell it didn't work," I said to Dr. Cullen.

"It rarely does," He shrugged, "With someone who is as _seasoned_ as Charlie is with alcohol,"

"You can say alcoholic. It doesn't change anything," Charlie huffed, rolling his eyes.

"But, you are trying to better yourself," Dr. Cullen began, "And that is all I ask of you. And if Bella is doing the trick, then you better do what you can to keep her around." He ended as Charlie looked to me, our gaze interrupted with the brewing awkwardness of our relationship. Not as close as a father and daughter typically are; together because of the circumstances, and _only_ because of them. It was clear Charlie shied away from any type of parenteral intimacy, but I wasn't much better. I couldn't even remember the last time we hugged.

"She's good for some things, like keeping the banks off my back," He laughed as I forced a smile, trying to avoid going deeper into _that_ conversation. Luckily, Dr. Cullen had diverted Charlie's attention toward the small, five-pound weights he pulled from one of the cupboards, instructing him on what he wanted him to do.

I thought back to our drive here, how I lied to Charlie about the mortgage and the bank. I didn't tell him earlier this morning I had opened up a loan in my name in order to pay the past due amount for the house, plus a little more until I could figure out how to help him going forward. Instead, I opted into a temporary excuse and told him I had called the bank and asked if they could extend our time to pay by a few weeks. It was a stretch and a lot of convincing on my part, but when I told him I even fake cried on the phone, begged the bank to help us during these times of desperation is when they finally caved. Charlie was somewhat proud by hearing this, enjoying the fact that his daughter had taken a shortcut to avoid the foreclosure on the house.

He just didn'tknow _which_ shortcut I had taken.

Dr. Cullen had put the five-pound weight into Charlie's palm, instructing him to stretch his arm out and then pull his forearm up and toward him. I could see the tension on Charlie's face, the slight agitation from using muscles he hadn't used in a few weeks. I watched from my seat as Dr. Cullen inspected, observing a few curls before writing in his notepad. He then set it down, stopping Charlie as he began to pull down the sleeve of his plaid shirt. Dr. Cullen pulled the shirt up and over his elbow, instructing Charlie to squeeze the weight as he applied pressure up and down his forearm.

Something had caught my attention, something I had never noticed before as Charlie always wore long sleeve T-shirts or baggy hoodies with his jackets. I felt myself leaning forward in my chair, while Charlie was preoccupied with Dr. Cullen. As he touched a sensitive spot, Charlie could be heard groaning in response as Dr. Cullen began to speak, his words drowning out in the background of my mind. I was too focused on what I had caught, my eyes blinking as if I imagined it because it was faint enough to be missed.

In the crook of his inner elbow, mixed with his milky white skin were faded red scars in the shape of tiny circles – an access point straight to his veins.

" _I'm just trying to help you understand that before you came here, it was a lot worse than what you saw last night."_

I felt a knot in the back of my throat form, my stomach plummeting as Edward's words from that day in the parking lot rang in my ears, repeating over and over. There were so many signs, so many hidden messages, and secrets kept from me by both Charlie and Edward. Edward wanted me to have the conversation with Charlie, to find what his life was like before I showed up in Forks. Now I knew why he always seemed on edge when Edward and I were in the same room, why Edward avoided having _that_ conversation with me. It finally made sense why his own sponsor had given up on him drinking. Edward had picked his battles with Charlie and alcohol was far less dangerous than heroin.

I felt lightheaded, nauseous, and struck with an overwhelming emotion that sprung tears in the corner of my eyes. The sleeve of his shirt had slipped down, covering those faint marks as I slunk back into the plastic chair, fighting with myself at either being sick right in front of them or going on the defense and berating him for what he had done to himself. I began to wonder if he had been using when I was in the house but reminded myself of Edward's words; _it was a lot worse before I had shown up._ What made Charlie stop? What made him start? Had he been doing this when I was a kid? Did Mom know? How long had it gone on? The questions were like weights on my chest, applying an obscene amount of pressure. I was sure I was going to crack, or say or do something I was going to regret.

So, instead of making a scene, I stood quickly, the back of my legs hitting the chair, making it knock back into the wall while gaining the attention of them both.

"Jesus, Bella," Charlie began as I felt the nape of my neck becoming slick with sweat.

"Bella, are you okay?" Dr. Cullen asked, concerned.

"Yeah – I … Um … I'm going to go grab some … Um …" _Come on, Bella, get ahold of yourself._ "I'm going to get us coffee while you guys … uh … Wrap up."

I couldn't explain how I made it out of the room without collapsing, but I soon found myself in the elevator, the walk a damn blur. I pulled my hair back into a messy bun just above my neck to prevent from becoming overheated, my thumb tapping against the metal bar of the elevator as I watched us pass each floor until we reached the main lobby. I darted for the Café, making a beeline straight to where the coffee was being served as I cleared my throat, my shaky hands grabbing the Styrofoam cups and filled them, willing myself not to cry in public. I left one coffee black as I began pouring a small bit of creamer into the other, distracting myself from the thoughts running through my head.

"Bella?" A deep voice called as I turned, seeing Jacob Black out of his normal uniform and instead in a plain T-shirt and jeans. His black hair was tied behind him, a jacket in one hand and a matching Styrofoam cup in the other. I knew I wasn't in the right state of mind to hold a conversation, but I also knew I couldn't wave him off as if it were someone I just knew in passing. I would have to fake it. So, I forced a smile and tried to keep my body language open to avoid looking as if I hadn't just found out one of my father's deepest secrets.

"Hey, Jake," I said. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought my dad for his regular checkup. The reservation isn't really known for their advances in medicine," He joked with a shrug. "Plus, Dr. Cullen is here, and he's the best damn doctor in Washington."

"Yeah, he's been great to Charlie." I agreed with a nod.

"How _is_ Charlie doing?"

"He's fine," I said quickly, showing off another smile as I attempted to mask the pain I felt eating me alive from the inside out. But Jake was no fool; a Police Officer who I'm sure had a good idea on how to read people. At some point during our small interaction, I became hyper-aware that I had crossed my arms over my chest and inched farther away. So I planted my feet firmly on the ground and brought my arms to my side, my hands slipping into my back pockets to keep them in their place. "He actually just got his cast off a few minutes ago."

"That's good. Not giving you any problems, is he?" Jake lightheartedly asked with a raised brow.

"You know how he is," I vaguely responded.

"You are a saint for putting up with him, I know it can't be easy ... Leaving your home to come to take care of him," Jake said as I felt myself becoming indifferent to his words, an uneasy feeling brewing between us as I tried to think of my exit strategy. I had hoped my phone would start ringing, or I could even pretend my phone was on vibrate, fake some kind of explanation as to why I had to leave. "I was starting to think you were in hiding, I hadn't heard from you." He laughed, hinting back to our last encounter at this very same hospital with Charlie when I told him I would call him at his request of us getting together to catch up. I scrunched my nose at my indiscretion, sparing him an apologetic look.

"I know I'm sorry, I've just been swamped with Charlie and …" I began, but Jake quickly shook his head.

"Shit, Bella, It's okay. You don't have to apologize. I understand you have a handful," He said as I blew out a breath with a nod as he stepped closer, reaching over me for a packet of sugar, ripping it and pouring it into his coffee as it dissolved immediately. "I heard about your night at Masen's," He said as I felt my mouth go dry, my instincts telling me to just go; not to engage in _that_ conversation. "I didn't think you had it in you, to be honest. Bella Swan, the same girl who made homemade mud pies with me in the backyard, taking Whiskey shots like she ain't got a care in the world."

"News travels fast," I pressed my lips together, taking a step back to put space between us. I felt my hand in my back pocket, grabbing hold of my phone, ready to fake my way out of this. "I forgot how small this town really is."

"Everything gets around," He laughed, taking another sugar packet, "Like the fact that you've been hanging out with Cullen." This caught my attention, the grip on my phone lessening as my eyes narrowed at Jake who brought his cup to lips, taking a sip. "I'm not judging,"

"Why would you judge me?" My tone was cold, my guard up at the mention of Edward.

"I'm not, I'm just saying a lot of people have noticed the two of you together," He shrugged as I shook my head, emptying my trash into the can next to the counter.

"People need to mind their own business," I bit as I grabbed ahold of the cups and stepped farther away.

"Bella, I didn't mean it in any way," He said, raising one hand up in surrender. "It's just gossip, and I don't typically listen to it. But I did pay attention when I heard that part."

"How is it any of your business, Jake?" I asked harshly.

"It's not. And I don't mean to piss you off, it's just I've known Cullen a long time, and I just want you to be careful," He trailed off, giving me nothing but a shrug at the end of his comment.

"Careful?"

"There's more to him than the front he puts up. He has some serious history here in Forks, and I'm surprised he's stuck around for as long as he has. Probably because he runs the AA in town, but people don't forget the past." Jake finished, the tension between us growing deeper by the second. I didn't need to fake an exit, because now I had one. This conversation was going south, and I knew he wouldn't question an abrupt departure.

"Everyone has a past, things they've done they aren't proud of," I began, feeling the sting in my own words. "Listen, I gotta go. Charlie is waiting for me," I said as I grabbed the two cups.

"Bella, just be careful – okay?" Jake pleaded, his tone sincere, but the sudden topic of Edward still rubbing me the wrong way. I nodded my head once before moving past him, making my way back to Charlie.

The red sky of evening fell over the town of Forks, and I felt as consumed as ever by this place. I drove Charlie home from the hospital and left him there without even going inside. He tried to get me to explain myself, tell him why I was acting so weird, but I couldn't face him. I made up an excuse and peeled out of the driveway as quickly as I could. This new information, while not confirmed, was weighing me down. I couldn't be near him. I know I would have said something I would have regretted – started a war, and I knew we didn't need that. Instead, I glanced down at the clock in my car and headed towards town, hoping Edward didn't mind seeing me earlier than intended. When I pulled into the parking lot I made my way towards his loft but was immediately stopped by the sight of several figures leaving Masen's.

"Bella?" When I heard his voice, I wanted to crumble right there in front of him. But I noticed his audience, both Emmett, Jasper, and a new girl I had never met before. She was tiny, shorter than me, with spiky black hair and milky white skin with a pixie nose to match. I forced a smile, holding in the emotions that screamed at me to let go as I swallowed them down.

"Bella!" Emmett shouted, taking a few large steps towards me and sweeping me into a hug.

"Emmett, Jesus, don't hurt her," Edward growled behind him as Emmett let go, a giant smile plastered on his face. He looked genuinely happy to see me, which made the abrupt hug easier to manage knowing it was coming from someone sincere.

"I'm not going to lie, Bella, I'm a little tipsy," Emmett slurred, creating an inch of space between his pointer finger and thumb. The moment he spoke, I smelled the alcohol on his breath, my eyes widening as I took a step back.

"A little? You took four shots of Jägermeister in there!" The girl squeaked behind him as he laughed, grabbing for his keys and throwing them behind him as Jasper caught them in mid-air.

"That's why Jazz is driving to Seattle," Emmett smirked, looking back at me as he tapped my nose. As Emmet walked past me, Edward maneuvered himself in my direction, my stomach tightening at the sight of him. The emotions threatened their way through, but the moment I felt his hands on me, a comfortability bubbled around us.

"Are you okay?" He asked, sensing my dilemma. I nodded, keeping my mouth to myself as I noticed Jasper and the girl making their way to us.

"Is this her, Edward?" She asked as Edward nodded, taking a step away.

"Bella, this is my cousin, Alice. Alice, Bella," He said as I raised my hand but felt her pull me into a hug immediately. _This is a family of huggers_ , I thought.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you," She said, her fruity perfume clinging to me as she pulled away. "It's not every day Edward introduces us to someone like you."

"Someone like me?" I questioned.

"I didn't want to say, girlfriend, that seemed relatively too inappropriate to assume," She quipped as I looked to Edward with a smile, seeing him pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Don't you guys have to get on the road?" Edward groaned as Jasper laughed, patting his back.

"Let's go, I'm ready to see my girl!" Emmett shouted from across the parking lot, slapping the top of his Jeep three times.

"It was nice to meet you, Bella. I hope we get to see more of each other," Alice smiled.

"Yeah, you too," I said, nodding to Jasper, who as always was observing, never interjecting.

"I was going to pick you up, you know," Edward said as the group made their way to the car. "Remember, I was going to face the wrath of Charlie's shotgun?"

"I needed to come to see you now," I admitted, closing the space between us.

"What's wrong, Bella?"

"Can we stay in?" I asked, my voice softening. "I know you wanted to go out, I just – I really just want to stay."

"Yeah, absolutely," He nodded, leaning forward to press a kiss to my forehead as we headed inside, making our way to the loft. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" He said as we hit the top step. I wanted to tell him, wanted to unravel it right at his feet, but I felt I wasn't in my right mind; I needed more time to process this, even if I could stall myself for a few minutes.

"Who's watching Masen's?" I asked nonchalantly as Edward looked to me, shrugging off his jacket as he smiled shaking his head.

"Is that what we're going to do?" He asked, indicating to me tiptoeing around my behavior. I didn't react, watching as he let out an empty laugh, shaking his head. "I have another employee who is part-time, Riley; he's taking care of the bar. Do you want me to make dinner?"

"Maybe in a while," I said, feeling my stomach twist at the thought of food. "Can I just get a water?" I asked as he nodded, filling a glass for me, setting it down on the coffee table just above a coaster. "Thank you," I whispered, leaning in for a kiss. He obliged, his lips melting into mine as the heat of the setting sun disappeared beyond the trees, cooling the loft. When he pulled away, he left me with several additional pecks on my lips before making his way to his stereo in the corner.

A guitar tempo started to crescendo as I found myself looking around, noticing a shelf, where the industrial windows began, and a lone photo sitting next to a plant. I moved closer, picking up the frame and inspecting the photograph of a young couple sitting on mossy rocks; a child between them with unruly auburn hair. The woman had matching hair bunched up into a high ponytail, and the man next to her had blazing green eyes.

"Is this you?" I asked as Edward made his way back to me, his expression darkening as if I were scratching at a wound, one that made me realize he had just as many walls as I did. However, he was much better at covering it up than I was, his expression lightening almost immediately as if he forced his emotions back, something not even I could typically find the courage to do.

"It is. And my parents," He said evenly, looking over my shoulder.

"You look just like her," I smiled, turning as he reached for the photo, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over his mother's face.

"I barely remember her," He admitted, watching as he reached up to set the frame back on the shelf. "I don't know why I have these, I hate looking at them."

"It's better to have some, then none," I told him, watching as he looked back to me with a quizzical expression. "I don't have any photos from my childhood. My parents never took any. And I'm sure if we _had_ owned a camera, Charlie would have sold it before we could even use it." I laughed at my pitiful joke, shrugging as I tried to make him feel even an ounce better. But, I noticed his expression had not changed, a frown still playing at his lips as his green eyes were dull with sadness. "What?"

"Nothing," He said, kissing the side of my head.

"Were they also …" I trailed off, but Edward shook his head.

"No, I was the only addict." His laugh was hollow, making his way to the couch and easing down onto it. I could tell by the look on his face that where this conversation was going made him uncomfortable. But I knew better than anyone how he felt and talking about a broken childhood could be like dust in your throat— every word was suffocating. "My mom, she died when I was starting high school in Seattle, and my dad moved us here to be closer to my Uncle Carlisle and Aunt Esme. That's when he bought Masen's, which is where the name originated. My mother's maiden name was Elizabeth Masen."

I nodded, looking back to the picture and imagining Edward as a young boy trying to cope with the idea of his mother being gone. It was a feeling I could relate to. I lingered by the picture for a few moments longer before making my way towards him, sitting caddy corner in the matching leather chair. Edward's elbows were on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him as he watched me, hesitating on his next words.

"He became so obsessed with the bar. He was always there, always trying to perfect it. And I never understood it, not even since I've owned it. And when I was growing up, I resented him for it, you know? He took me from my home, all of the memories of my mom, my friends, the things that were familiar to me to come here. And then I barely saw him." He paused, shaking his head as I felt a twist in my stomach, the pain evident on his face at the topic of his past.

"You don't have to …" I began, but was interrupted.

"No, it's okay. Really. I … I _want_ you to know," His voice betrayed him as I made a face, a small smile appearing on his lips to ease the anxiety cracking in the air. We were opening up _those_ closets, and I wasn't sure if we would be the same once we shared what was inside ... that if whatever it was we had together would be enough to help heal our pains. "I told you I would answer any questions you have and I _know_ you have questions." He urged as I nodded in response. "We didn't have the best relationship because I resented him for always being at the bar. And on the off times, when he was at home, we either fought or steered clear of each other to avoid fighting. I can recognize now that I allowed his neglect and pain for losing my mother be the crutch of my addiction, and for a long time, I blamed him. But, he didn't put the bottles in my hands, I just didn't know how else to handle it, so I turned to something I thought would help me forget." He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. I stayed still, my hands at my lap even though my body twitched to move towards him. I stayed still, knowing this was his story and he needed me to listen instead of reacting.

"I wish I could say we came to an understanding, but he died when I was nineteen. Suicide." He paused briefly, "He gave me the bar, and I didn't sell it because, despite our differences, it was his. But I ignored it, went back to Seattle with too much money from my inheritance. And that is when I met Tanya, who introduced me to her dealer, James. And that was all it took. One hit of coke, and too much vodka to drown in my pain. I became an addict. Almost ran the bar straight to the ground. But like I've told you before, Charlie helped me out with that."

"How did he help you?" I asked, curious.

"When I came home from Seattle, I got into trouble. I did some pretty stupid things and despite Charlie also being an alcoholic, he had connections with the police, and that was what saved me. I'm not sure if it was out of the kindness of his heart or if he just didn't want the bar to close," Edward laughed emptily as I nodded in agreement, understanding his confliction with Charlie's intentions.

"And I got clean, and because of that, I got the bar back into shape and joined AA. I have a sponsor, and then I became one," He shrugged.

"So you got clean because you got in trouble one time?" I asked, trying my best not to sound as if I was prying. Edward let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head as he leaned back into the couch.

"You make it seem like it was easy," He shook his head. "It was a multitude of things that happened, which led to my sobriety."

"I didn't mean it —" I began, feeling as though I made his achievement short-sighted.

"I know, it's okay," He said with a half-smile, "I'm an open book, most of the time, it's just hard to get it all out at once." He said with a final nod as I pinched at my bottom lip with my pointer finger and thumb, contemplating what to say next. I still had questions. What was the incident that led him back to Forks? How deeply rooted was he with Tanya and his dealer, James? Does he still talk to him? And who is Maggie? Tanya had mentioned the name when I was trapped in the bathroom. Was it not important enough to bring up? I doubted, based off his reaction when she said her name or the fact he hadn't brought it up at all.

I had so many questions, but Edward was so forthcoming already that it wasn't fair. I spoke about being open and honest, but here I was listening to him divulge all of his skeletons without even providing him one from my closet. It was clear Edward had a rough childhood, which led to his addiction, but somehow, even if I didn't know _how_ yet, he overcame it. For now, that was all I needed. And despite my constant insistence to never let my walls down, to never have _that_ conversation about Charlie and my mom and all the things I went through from my childhood to now, it was clear Edward and I were not that different. And it made what I was about to say a hell of a lot easier.

"I saw the track marks on Charlie," I blurted, my eyes widening at the sudden tumble of words as Edward froze, waiting for me to continue. "I don't think he noticed I saw, or maybe he did, I don't know. But, I saw them. That's why I came over early. I don't think I could have been alone with him." I shrugged, watching as he slightly nodded his head, a small movement I barely noticed. I stood from my seat, feeling the same weight crushing on me from earlier as Edward turned on the couch, watching as I paced.

"I haven't said anything yet, but I have _so_ many questions. And I won't ask you because I know you made it clear that Charlie has to be the one to tell me, but I understand now," I said with a nod, stopping near the kitchen counter and turning towards him. He was standing now, still near the couch as his hands dug into his front pockets. "I don't know how you did it, but I understand. Do you know how upset I was when I found out you were enabling him? You were his sponsor, and you were letting him drink himself right into liver disease." I paused as Edward shifted, uncomfortable with my accusations. "But I get it now. He would have killed himself faster with the heroin, and you chose the lesser of two evils."

"It wasn't easy," He interjected.

"Remember when you asked me about Renee?" I questioned as he nodded slowly. I turned, her name like acid on my tongue. I walked myself to the large window, and looked down at the back of the building, which was almost overtaken by a green forest of trees, now overcast by inky black sky. "She was my mom. She's why I'm here, why I came to find Charlie." I paused as Edward was watching me with a precise intensity, gauging my every movement, studying me. "I lived here when I was younger with my parents. My mom was also an alcoholic, and addicted to pills." I said, taking in a deep breath and finding it hard to exhale.

"Bella," Edward warned, but I turned to him instantly.

"You were honest with me. I want to be honest with you. It's okay, I promise," I said with a nod as Edward did the same in response. "I spent a lot of time as a kid taking care of Charlie and Renee; cleaning up their messes, putting them to bed, making sure they didn't kill themselves. So many things I shouldn't have had to do when I was that age. So many things I shouldn't have seen. I can't even count how many times I held my mom's hair back as she was puking, or how often I had to try and drag Charlie in from the cold when he passed out on our front porch." I laughed emptily with a shrug, looking back out to the window. "My parents loved me, I know they did. But they loved their vices more. But then, my mom got clean. She went to rehab, and when she realized Charlie was not going to do the same, she left with me. She took me to Phoenix."

"Phoenix?" Edward asked as I turned to look at him. His brows were furrowed, his eyes narrowing at me as if I had just spoken an unknown language. I nodded, watching as he absentmindedly bit at his lip in thought, leaning himself against the couch before he realized I was staring. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as I eyed him curiously. "Uh, what's in Phoenix?"

"My grandparents," I said, watching as he nodded, playing off his strange reaction. "That's where we moved, and that's where I've been for the past fourteen years. Mom stayed clean, we got our own place, she remarried, and that's where I graduated. I never spoke to Charlie, and he only reached out when he sent birthday cards every year."

"So," Edward began, "You came back?"

"Yeah, uh, I did," I hesitated, sitting myself down on the ledge of the window. "My mom died. She overdosed this past July. We didn't even know she was using again," I whispered, feeling the coolness of the window through the fabric of my shirt, "And, so, I uh, came back to tell Charlie." I said with a nod, looking back to Edward who watched me, his expression showing one of understanding as if he knew the hurt and resentment that brewed deep down inside of me. Of course, he knew, his father committed suicide. He knew exactly how it felt to be abandoned by your parent, and despite the circumstances, it hurt all the same.

"You had asked me once if I get tired of fighting, but my anger is what keeps me together, kind of like my glue, especially when I'm here. There are so many memories of them, of my childhood, that I want to forget. I use my anger as my shield, and I know that's not healthy. But that's all I've known since she died." I stopped briefly, rubbing my arms to protect myself from the frosty draft from the windows. "I wasn't supposed to stay as long as I did, I was just going to tell him and leave, but things happened. Things changed." I said, looking back to see him standing directly behind me. Instinctively, I rose, the closeness of him overwhelming at first. But once I caught the lightness in his green eyes, a sensation of relief and comfort washed over me. I think it was the energy that moved and crackled between us like lightning.

"We're not so different, you know," He whispered reaching down to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Like broken pieces of glass."

"Really broken," I breathed.

"Really _fucking_ broken," He agreed with a laugh, but the lighthearted moment seemed to pass with a blur, his gaze holding mine sternly. "Thank you. You didn't have to tell me."

"I've never told anyone, not even my friends back in Phoenix," I whispered as he nodded, cupping his hands underneath my jawline.

"Everyone here knows about my past," Edward breathed, his tone riddled with shame as I looked at him, remembering my conversation with Jacob earlier at the hospital. He couldn't shake his past like me; the whole town knew about his. I realized how hard it has to be as an ex-addict to be taken seriously. Jacob mentioned his reputation, how the town was talking about the two of us together. Perhaps, the old Bella would care. The old Bella would question this, dissect it, and try to understand. Mom always said I had a tendency to over think.

But not this time.

Not with him.

I pushed myself forward, grabbing him by his sweater and crashing my lips to his. He reacted immediately, his arms dropping and wrapping around my waist as he brought me closer to his level to deepen the kiss. I lightheaded at the very smell of him; the woodsy scent and peppermint caused goosebumps to pebble on the top of my skin. We began moving, somewhere, anywhere, I was too wrapped up in him, in his lips and his tongue that seemed to twist and melt every fiber inside of me.

He fell back, landing on his bed. Sitting upright, he took me down with him, allowing me to straddle his lap. Leaving my swollen lips, he trailed his down my jawline, pushing my hair back to gain access to my neck. He was tender; his lips warm, leaving a fire in their wake as the temperature in my body began to rise. He was nipping at the skin, his fingers inching underneath the back of my shirt to splay across my spine, the heat of his hand pushing me to the brink of insanity as he continued to tease. He found his way back to me, our lips molding together as my fingers cautiously moved down, gripping the hem of his sweater and coaxing him out of it. He gave me a very brief look, one that told me if I drew a line in the sand now, he'd stay on his side. But I broke the look with a deepened kiss, silently answering his question immediately. He pulled away, allowing me to peel the fabric from his body, my fingers falling down his front to feel the creases in his skin.

My shirt was also lost in the abyss around us, as Edward turned us around, laying me on my back as he hovered above me, gripping the cups of my bra, pushing one down as he lavished me with kisses and suckles, forcing audible moans to leave my lips in ways they never have before. I responded by thrusting my hips into his, his groan vibrating against my skin as I watched in a lust-induced haze as he kissed the mounds of my breasts. I gripped at the skin of his shoulders, urging him back up ... pleading with him to kiss me. He obliged as the rest of our clothes fell from our bodies, Edward wrapping his arm around my waist and twisting us around once again, so we were back to our original position. He sat upright at the edge of the bed as I hovered over him, my arms snaking around his neck as I felt my breathing hitch, my heart hammering as if it were going to pop right out of my chest and into his arms.

Once we were protected, we watched each other with an illuminating stare, one that was only shared by the two of us in this most intimate moment. The rawness of it encouraged me to move forward as I sunk down, feeling him enter and fill me. I could feel the hotness of his breath against my chin as my bottom met his thighs, the two of us sitting still to revel in the moment. There was a vulnerability with him that I hadn't felt in a long time, one I knew he felt too. It was as if he broke everything I surrounded myself in, forcing me to open up and show my scars so he could show his. I vowed I would never overthink this and these moments with him. He had opened me so completely, in ways I had never felt before.

He guided me, holding my hips with tenderness. Synched together, we were one, his arm falling to grip the sheets beneath us as he groaned, matching the soft noises that escaped my lips. I was slow at first, deliberate. I wanted to feel everything. Electricity started to tingle within me, like the first few flicks of a lighter, the sparks never making the flame but they burst in an array of small flares. A few curses left Edward's lips as I muted them with my own, pressing myself to him as I forced a kiss to deepen. He swallowed my noises as I mewled against his lips, the sparks growing furiously with each stroke.

" _Bella_." He said my name like a mantra, his arm tight around my waist as sweat began to bead against my back. He found my neck again, attacking it with open-mouthed kisses before he suddenly flipped us over again, the weight of him pressed against me as he gripped my right thigh, pushing it up and against his hip to give him better access. At this point, I was overcome with an insane amount of pleasure, and the noises that left me were nearly animalistic. I gripped at his back, feeling it covered by a sheen of wetness as my nails dug in. This encouraged him to move faster, and by then, the spark was close to catching flame.

It wasn't until he forced my other leg up that I felt the vibration running down the length of my body, building up an energy that was getting ready to explode. I whimpered in anticipation, embers burning at the pit of my stomach waiting to be disturbed. It was only two more strokes before I combusted, all of my nerves standing at attention as waves of pleasure lapped over me. The high of it seemed to last longer than intended, my body tingling all over and then slowly shimmering back down to earth. I found myself collapsing in a sweaty mess underneath him, watching as he tensed, letting out the same moan of release, giving one last final thrust. We were silent for moments after until he kissed me tenderly, gripping my body and falling over next to me, my leg still hiked at his hip as he stayed buried inside of me. He covered us with his sheets, wrapping us together as I smiled against him, feeling him reflect it.

He was right; we were broken pieces of glass. We had sharp edges caused by issues stemming from our pasts. We continually felt anxious at the thought of being dropped and broken again. But we opened up, something both of us had been afraid to do ... afraid of being rejected as someone who doesn't _work_ anymore.

And maybe we didn't work for others. But despite it all, we fit together.

* * *

 _AN: And I am hoping that makes up for the long wait. Please forgive me, I was enjoying the Holiday season with friends and family. I hope every single one of you enjoyed time with your loved ones!_

 _As always, thank you for following, favoriting, and reviewing. I look forward to hearing from each of you._

 _Thank you to Fran, my Beta, who puts up with my constant mistakes and overuse of phrases (yikes!)_

 _Until next time_

 _\- ii_


	12. Deal

_Chapter Song - Stay by Cat Power (Original by Rihanna)_

 _"Not really sure how to feel about it_  
 _Something in the way you move_  
 _Makes me feel like I can't live without you_  
 _It takes me all the way  
I want you to stay"_

* * *

The morning sun peeked through the tips of the pine trees as a rolling fog cast everything in town with dew. Birds sang their melodies, waking the sleepers from their slumber. The air was stiff and bitter cold as raindrops froze against panels of glass, warning those who might want to brave the outdoors. Despite the icy weather that covered Forks like a blanket, I found myself protected by Mother Nature's changing season. The only thing entering the loft were the rays of sun warming my bare skin as I awoke amongst twisted sheets. I had been blissfully wrapped in a peaceful slumber, one that had been escaping me for months. It was wondrous what a good night's rest could do to the soul.

That was until I felt a pair of lips skimming my naked back, trailing warm kisses up my spine and ending at my shoulder. While my rest was boundlessly appreciated, my body instinctively reacted to the hands that caressed me and begged me to open my eyes. I conceded, my torso turning to give him more access in which to spread his deep affection. My neck was admired first, light kisses moved north to under my ear lobe, the pressure increasing as if to warn me of his intentions. Just moments ago, I was so content in my sleep, but now I was wide awake.

He found my lips after a moment, my arm reaching under his and sliding up his smooth back, feeling the ripple of the muscles that flexed as he inched closer. A hand gripped at my thigh, fingers creating dimples in my skin as it was brought up, propping against his hip. The movement of his kiss lessened momentarily, as if a silent question was being spoken between us. Content, a soft mewl left me in a breath, it being the only approval he needed before he pushed my lower back closer, allowing him access to me entirely.

In unison, an intake of air had echoed through the silence of the room, my body accommodating his in the new position. I felt fingers dancing across my jaw, my eyes fluttering open and squinting at the adjustment of the morning light as his strokes were slow and deliberate, a far cry from what we had experienced the night before. But it was different this time, the morning effects not lost on us. Kisses were unhurried, our lips lingering against each other, swallowing the sounds of the fire that began to ignite within us. His fingers were tangled in my hair, his forehead resting against mine as we rocked back and fourth, our grip tightening to indicate the impending climax.

When my eyes adjusted to the light basking onto the bed, I was able to see the green so clearly. He was watching, studying, observing. His stare had caused my skin to pebble, my hips to roll as he hissed in response, not expecting my sudden movements into him. I couldn't place the sentiments I felt in the pit of my stomach, but whatever they were, I was feeling them tenfold.

He had stripped me bare, physically and emotionally, and he did it proudly.

xx

In the bathroom, I stood at the sink as I ran cold water down my arms to wake myself. When I caught my reflection, I noticed my disheveled look and I did my best to run my fingers through the tangled mess of my hair. My lips were slightly swollen, an indicator of what had transpired in the past twelve hours. The thought of it caused my heart rate to quicken, my eyes hooded with an emotion I couldn't quite place. I wasn't sure if the peaceful sleep had clouded my judgment, but I knew if anything, I was … _happy_? It was a foreign feeling, but I knew I had felt it before. It seemed a little ridiculous, as if I was a hormonal teenager who had shared her first kiss with the boy she had been crushing on. I was almost giddy. How funny it was that only weeks ago, I couldn't stand to be around Edward without feeling the need to pick a fight. But now, all I wanted to do when I saw him was take him back to the bed.

"Jesus, get ahold of yourself, Bella," I chastised myself, though a part of me pleaded to allow myself the joy of the feeling. It had been a long time since I felt any semblance of a romantic emotion with someone. I thought back to when I lost my virginity to Mike Newton, sophomore year of High School in the back of his pick-up truck. I cringed at the thought of it or any of the other men I had been in bed with, not that there were many.

 _You're overthinking again, Bella._

My mother's voice was clear as day, her warning leaving an ache in my chest as I remembered all the times she reminded me to just live and not question every single detail. I chanced another look in the mirror, coming to an agreement with myself that I wouldn't overthink, but that didn't mean I always had to have my guard down.

Dressed in one of Edward's V-neck shirts he had let me borrow, it came down to just past my waist. I pulled my hair to the side, splashing a few cold droplets of water onto my neck and grabbed the doorknob, twisting it open to find the bed empty. Perplexed, my eyes traveled to the sounds of dish ware and the smell of bacon from the kitchen.

In nothing but a pair of dark gray sweatpants, Edward stood at his stove, a carton of milk and eggs at his side as he made breakfast for two.

 _How can I overthink anything if I wake up to this?_

He must have heard the door, because he turned and showed me a beautiful smile, one that made all the doubts in my head disappear within a millisecond. He was good at that, rendering me speechless and thoughtless when we were in proximity. It was a dangerous combination, but one I found I was willing to succumb to just to be near him.

 _Just take it one step at a time. Let it come naturally._

I hear you, Mom.

"You like eggs?" He asked as I nodded, reflecting his smile.

"I didn't really take you for the domestic type," I teased, sitting myself down onto the barstool that sat near the small wood counter. Edward laughed, shaking his head as he whisked the eggs in the sizzling pan.

"Everyone should know how to make breakfast. Plus, I owe you for dinner last night," He said, looking back at me from over his shoulder.

"That was more my fault than yours," I began, honestly. "I was the one who changed plans last minute."

"I didn't mind one bit," His voice, low, invoking a chill through me, our thoughts mingling to the night before. He turned his attention to the other pan of sizzling bacon, my nose scrunching at his choice of attire when he began to flip the meat.

"You really shouldn't be doing that shirtless, you will –"

"Fuck!" He exclaimed, jumping back and dropping a piece of bacon to the ground in the process.

"… Burn yourself," I finished as I tried to contain my laughter, his eyes swiveling to me in warning. I covered my mouth, sliding off the chair to help him. I picked the now ruined piece of from the floor, throwing it into the sink. "Let me see the damage," I looked at his torso, seeing three red dots plumping near the skin of his abdominals from the spitting grease. I smoothed over them with my thumb, all barely noticeable if you weren't looking. "You'll survive," I assured him with an impish grin as he rolled his eyes, grabbing ahold of my waist and pulling me close.

"Do you always get off on other people's pain?" He questioned.

"Just yours," I whispered. The moment was so lighthearted; it was as if it was just the two of us. There was no outside, no Forks, no Masen's, no alcoholic father's. Just us.

He leaned in to kiss me, something I had been waiting for since when we broke our embrace in bed. But before the moment could happen, a single ring from a phone cut us off. As if he already knew who it was, he hesitated but didn't leave me with nothing, providing a chaste kiss to the lips before turning to the countertop to grab his cell. As he read the message, I had noticed the change in his demeanor almost immediately, the muscles in his arms going rigid as he typed something out, setting it back down before turning to the stove.

"Everything okay?" I asked cautiously, leaning myself against the counter.

"Of course," His mannerisms relaxing at the sound of my voice, something I had picked up on rather quickly. I wondered who had messaged him and what was said to elicit a change in his mood so fast. But the thought was soon gone when I found him near the bacon again. I lunged towards him, taking place in front of the stove.

"Either dress appropriately or get out of my way," I demanded as he laughed, stepping aside with his hands up in surrender. I took the spatula from him, flipping the strips as best as I could as he stood next to me, fluffing the eggs.

"Where did you learn to cook?" He asked, with one hand whisking at the pan and the other resting at the small of my back. It didn't go unnoticed he was fond of physical touch, his nearness and at least one hand somewhere on me. I didn't mind, and in fact, I enjoyed it, a far cry from when I previously avoided him being so close.

"I had to," I explained, pressing a piece of bacon into the cast iron with the tip of my spatula. "When I was younger, I was on my own. Charlie and Renee could barely cook for themselves." I let out a laugh, realizing it sounded more pitiful then intended.

Edward spared me a solemn glance, but he didn't linger on the subject of my parents. And I was so grateful to him for that. I didn't want them to ruin our morning.

"When I was in high school, I was suspended for three days, and my Aunt Esme was so pissed at me," He thought back to the memory, shaking his head. "I was walking on eggshells around her, and I decided as a peace offering, to make one of her favorite meals: vegan lasagna. I didn't know a damn thing about cooking, and none of my cousins would help me, so I was winging it. I ended up ruining their new stove because I caught it on fire." His laugh barked at the memory, my lips rounded to make an _O._ "Luckily, Esme is a saint and the gesture was all it took to get on her good side despite me nearly burning down their kitchen. My Uncle didn't have the same sentiment when he was paying for the damages," Edward smiled coyly, "So, I stick to a strict regimen of eggs, bacon, pasta. Nothing fancy."

"And if you are not in the mood for eggs, bacon, or pasta?" I inquired.

"Then I order out," He answered with a sharp nod.

"Sounds like I'm going to have to teach you your way around a kitchen," I smirked, raising a brow at him. This caught his attention rather quickly as he dropped his spatula, his hand already resting at the small of my back but moving south. I knew what he was about to do before he even had the chance and I quickly removed myself away from the stove as he followed suit, grabbing ahold of my waist and pulling me in against his chest.

"So, then that means you'll come back?" He was vulnerable in that moment, clearing thinking of what last night meant to me. I turned in his arms, smoothing the serious expression away from his face as I nodded. I could see him visibly relax as if he had been holding his breath waiting for my answer. He reached for my legs, lifting them around his waist as I squealed at the sudden movement, feeling him carry us back to his bed.

"The food!" I screamed, a horrible image of his kitchen engulfed with flames popped into my head. He stood, moving back to our original spot to turn off the stove. He looked back at me with a sly smile as I bit my lips, wondering how we would get anything done if we always ended up back in bed. However, I didn't seem to care when he was staring at me like _that_.

But, as he made his way back to the bed, his phone began ringing. This time, it was a different tune. Edward looked over his shoulder, cursing under his breath as he turned to me apologetically. I spared him a nod as he maneuvered to the counter, placing his phone to his ear.

"What?" He seethed, angry at whoever was interrupting. He turned his back towards me, shielding me away from his conversation, though I was able to pick up bits of it. "You are drunk ... You need to let it go … I'm busy … I can't keep doing this with you …" The conversation was over within two minutes, Edward looking down at his phone and then setting it face down onto the counter.

"Let's get out of here," He said as he turned towards me, forcing me to blink several times.

"What about breakfast?" I asked, raising a brow.

"We'll get it while we're out. I'm in need of coffee," His voice was eager, almost overly excited, trying to convince me to leave. I wondered if whoever was on the phone had threatened to show up on his doorstep, though, if that was the case, I had a pretty good idea who it was. I didn't want to argue, it was clear Edward didn't want to be here. So, I humored him, stood from the bed and grabbed my clothes that were scattered over the floor.

"Two coffees, black," Edward said as we sat inside Carver's Café. It was a small, quaint place, only a few tables and a counter with stools. It had been opened for as long as I could remember and I had several memories of coming here with my parents on the off chance they were sober. I looked to the corner, the table by the window as I imagined the three of us eating breakfast together. I felt my throat go dry, my eyes begin to mist, but I was brought back immediately by Edward who had his arm wrapped around my waist, kissing the side of my head. It was a very intimate moment; one I realized was shared by the locals who sat around, chatting and reading their newspaper, some daring a look to us.

I turned just as our coffee arrived, both of us saying our thank you and ordering our food as we grabbed our paper cups. Edward lifted his lid, adding two sugars before placing it back down to take his first sip. We sat at the counter, close together, Edward's hand on my knee.

"Is Charlie coming tonight?" Edward asked as he took a sip from his coffee, the sunlight seeping from the window hitting his hair and making the auburn stand out. I reached up, tucking a wayward strand and watched as he smiled, another affectionate moment shared between us. They seemed to increase every minute we were with each other.

"It's part of our deal," I replied to Edward's question. At the community center, Edward was hosting his weekly AA meeting, something Charlie promised to attend in exchange for me not bringing up the bills ... though I had secretly taken care of that. "I'll force him if I have to."

"He should come on his own terms," He warned as I shook my head.

"This isn't about him getting better. We both know he can't. This is about him putting on a front for the rest of the town so someone can hire him and we don't lose the house," I said, rubbing my hand over my face to remove the stress I felt growing.

"You know," Edward began but paused as if contemplating his next words. He looked up at the TV in the corner of the café, sipping on his drink before glancing back to me. "If Charlie needs money, I can help with that."

Of course, he could. He had his father's inheritance, and according to him, it would allow him to live comfortably for the rest of his life. But, I wasn't one to take handouts, and it was clear Charlie wasn't either. It's one thing to pay off a few months in debt, but to pay it off completely? Charlie would know immediately.

"You got me in your bed once, and you think I'm after your money?" I smiled coyly.

"I can think of worse company to keep," He smiled, leaning over to press a warm kiss to the corner of my lips, "And if I recall, I had you in my bed several times last night." He slurred, pulling away.

"Charlie doesn't need your money," I said, sidestepping the heat rising in my body at his comment. "I've helped, but he needs to get a job. And going to AA may redeem some of his credibility with this town. Not much, but some."

"I get it. It's a good plan, everyone will know he was there before the meeting is over. This place thrives on gossip," He rolled his eyes just as I turned, looking to the other customers who averted their gaze when I caught them. I looked back to Edward who sipped at his coffee, unfazed by what was happening around us while I was hyper-aware. I could only imagine what they were thinking … Bella Swan, daughter of an addict, sleeping with an ex-addict – a magnet for trouble.

 _You're overthinking again._

The hand on my thigh was what grounded me, kept me from running out the door to avoid the judgment in their eyes. He didn't care, so, why should I?

"Are going to tell me who called you?" I said cautiously, feeling his grip lessen on my thigh. I knew the answer before he had to say it, but he only looked at me with a look of somberness. "It's okay. I know she's a part of your past."

"I'd like to keep her there," The words grounded against his teeth and I could relate. There were many things I wish could stay in my past that haunt me every day. "She calls when she is in trouble, and it's as if the last three years of my sobriety mean nothing to her. She can't let go of me, and there are so many things I could do to keep her out of my life, but I remember she's the way she is because of me. And then it's the guilt."

I stayed silent for a moment, wanting to ease his frustrations before speaking as he glared down at his cup of coffee. "I didn't mean to bring it up, I just …"

"You don't have to avoid any conversations with me, Bella. I'll tell you everything. And she is no exception to that rule," His openness and truth were admirable, especially with someone with his history. I contemplated what I was going to ask next. We had spoken about Tanya before, but I had a feeling I didn't have the full picture, and how deeply rooted she was to Edward or how much it could complicate whatever we had. But, before any questions were asked between us, the waitress set our plates in front of us, our conversation about Tanya on hold for now. Despite our interruption, we sat in comfortable silence, his hand never leaving my leg.

xx

I sat on an empty bench of the hallway of the community center, the heel of my boot tapping against the linoleum floor as I glanced down at my phone, checking the clock for the tenth time. I had dropped Charlie off an hour and a half ago for his first meeting of AA in years. The biggest challenge for me was facing him, especially after how I had abruptly left him in the driveway of our home after I discovered the secret of his past drug addiction. It was something I struggled with while trying to get out the door of Edward's. Charlie was always a drunk, he was even an addict. But it was never heroin. That was one thing I looked back and could count my blessings on. Despite our trials and tribulations with my parents, the worst it got was cocaine.

 _He hasn't done it in a year._

Edward reminded me of this fact over and over. He was vague in the information he gave, strongly believing this was a conversation between Charlie and me. But one thing he could say with certainty was that those addicted to heroin have a difficult time staying sober, even more so than an alcoholic. And the fact that Charlie had stayed clean from that poison for the length of time he had, especially with his addictive personality, was impressive.

 _I don't think he liked who he was when he was on it._

I didn't know how, when or even if I would bring it up to Charlie. However, I knew that even with my hatred towards him for being an addict and despite him going to AA only because of a deal we made, I recognized the fact that he was meeting me halfway, and I needed to help him see it through.

When I picked him up, he didn't bring up my erratic behavior, nor did he ask where I had been all night. Instead, he grumbled his way into the car, slinking into his seat and groaning the whole way, taking sips of his travel-size whiskey bottle he hid in the sleeve of his jacket.

" _Are you kidding me?" I objected through a growl, ripping the bottle from his grip, "You're on your way to an AA meeting, Charlie!"_

" _I'm going, aren't I?" He argued, frustrated. "There was no hidden clause saying I couldn't drink on my way there."_

" _It was implied!" I countered, rolling the window down to dump the remnants left of the whiskey onto the road. Charlie groaned, scrubbing his face with the palm of his hands. "I just need you to act like you care. No one is going to want to hire an alcoholic."_

" _If you think you are going to fool anyone in this town -"_

" _You haven't been very forthcoming with other ideas," I bit. "Your cast is off; there is no reason why you shouldn't work."_

" _I'm thinking of something," He grumbled, "And you are not supposed to be bringing up the house, that was the deal we made."_

The rest of the way was spent in silence. Edward had mentioned earlier that this specific meeting was 'closed' and had explained in AA terms, supporters, as well as, family and friends were not allowed. Only the participants were able to attend and share, not that I felt compelled to sit and listen to the stories of those battling addictions, not when I had been in the middle of it before with my parents.

But, I couldn't find it in myself to leave the community center. I felt something inside of me, something I had felt years ago when I was young – a sense of hope. Maybe, if Charlie listened to others who were struggling like he was, some clarity would enlighten him. If not for the fact that he needed to try and get employed, but also because Dr. Cullen had made it clear his body was most likely battling liver disease.

I had to laugh at that, it slowly turning into a groan as the back of my head hit the wall. I knew above anything else, hope was the most precarious emotion to have, especially when you lived the life I did. So many times, as a little girl, I had hoped Charlie and Renee would transform into doting parents, ones who made sure to tuck their child in at night, sit at the table for a family meal or even send her off to college with tears of pride in their eyes. We were never spiritual, but I had prayed once for this outcome only for it never to come to fruition.

So why did I think now would be any different?

I expelled the feeling but still felt anxious. We were nearing two hours into the meeting, and I berated myself for not asking Edward how long these things could take. I felt a vibration, only to come to a realization that it was me. I stood from the bench, distracting myself by pacing up the hallway, each time I inched closer to the doors that led into the main area where the meeting was taking place.

Curiosity piqued at me, and as I became closer, I slowed. The door was not closed fully, it cracked to allow the light to leak out and voices to filter from the seats. I stopped, seeing the chairs were not positioned in a circle but in rows, at the front was a rectangular table, one that had three seats. I immediately became aware of Edward who sat in the middle between two strangers, one male and one female. They were looking at a young man, no more than twenty-one, who stood at a podium just a few feet from them. He seemed to be in the middle of his story. The two at Edward's side were writing notes, but Edward, with his pen in his hand, was watching the man with a studious look, absorbing every word he spoke.

"I saw the disappointment in my mom's eyes every day, but I didn't care." He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. "My dad just tuned me out, probably was glad I was on the streets and out of his house, so he didn't have to deal with me. I had this fucking resentment towards him that made me so angry I turned to alcohol to forget about it." He paused, an audible gulp emitting from his throat. "When I had my accident, everything changed. It could have been a lot worse for me, I know that. But when I hit that pole, I was scared. And not because I saw my life flash before my eyes or some cliché bullshit you hear in the movies … But, because I realized that if I died, I wouldn't be able to do another hit again. Not the fact that I would cease to exist and never see the people I loved but that I wouldn't be able to do a line of coke or huff some fumes. I mean, how fucked up is that?" He said, shaking his head. "And that, beyond everything else, scared me shitless. That's why I ended up here. I'm still dealing with the aftermath of the crash," He gestured down to the leg that was plastered in a cast, "But I'm three months sober, and that's got to count for something, and it's all thanks to my Home Group."

Several shouts of encouragement erupted from the audience just as the man next to Edward stood, walking to the podium as he handed the speaker a coin just before shaking his hand. From his seat at the table, Edward stood and smiled, a look of pride in his eyes as he made his way to the front, patting the man's back and whispering something in his ear. I looked to the audience, noticing a figure with dark hair peppered with gray, slinked back in his chair. I couldn't see his facial expressions, but knowing Charlie, his eyes would be rolling.

"Thank you, Eric, for sharing your story. Hopefully, you were able to help some of our newest members feel a little more comfortable in sharing theirs. I will open the floor back up before we finish for the night." Eyes swung to Charlie, but he remained motionless. Edward lingered back with the boy, Eric, watching as Charlie looked away and down at his feet. _Figured_. "Well, thank you all for coming. I appreciate your time, and we will meet here again next week."

Just as the chairs began sliding against the ground, I felt my back-pocket buzz to life. Reaching for my phone, I felt inclined to ignore the call. But I knew Phil would just worry if I didn't answer and so I maneuvered myself farther down the hall as the double doors opened and people walked out. I took in a deep breath, pressing the accept button before setting the phone to my ear.

"Hey," I breathed, running my fingers through my hair. "Now's not really the best time."

"I was just checking in on you," He said calmly, "What's going on?"

"I'm actually picking Charlie up from an AA meeting," I breathed, rubbing at my cheek.

"Really?" Phil said after a few moments, astonished.

"Yeah, I know. Can I call you back in a little bit?" I asked.

"Sure, I just wanted to ask if there was anything in your room you wanted to let go of. I'm doing some cleaning," He began, "Is there anything you can part with? Or did you just want to wait until you come back?"

 _Come back._

"Uh, I'm not sure off the top of my head. We can just …" I gulped. "We can just wait until I get back."

"All right, well, if you think of anything then let me know. Call me tomorrow."

"Okay, I will." We said our goodbyes as the guilt set in the moment the call ended.

 _Come back_.

We spoke about it before, and I promised to return just in time for the holidays. But were things different now? A headache was setting in, the thought of making any type of decision was nauseating. So, instead of dealing with it, I slid it in my back pocket to deal with later. _One problem at a time_ , I reminded myself. As people passed, I made my way back down to the double doors, where a few remained talking in pairs or groups, none of which included Charlie.

I moved towards the office, stopping only a few feet ahead when I heard my name being whispered in short breaths. Again, I found my curiosity brewing, hearing the familiar voice of my father from the other side of the door.

Charlie's voice was low but deliberate, "If you are going to fool around with her, that is one thing but –"

"Your fatherly advice is outstanding, Charlie, really." Edward grounded, his sarcasm thick. "What makes you think this is just us fooling around?"

"I don't want to know what it is. But as my sponsor, what I say is confidential – right?" Charlie asked just as I grabbed the doorknob. Edward was silent as Charlie continued. "Good. Let's keep it that way." Within a matter of seconds, the door yanked open, and I found myself in front of both of them, my eyes widened as Charlie's reflected. "Bells, I'm ready to go." He said his voice final.

"What's going on?" I asked, glancing between the two of them.

"Just talking about the meeting, sponsor stuff that wouldn't interest you." He shrugged coolly, looking back to Edward who stayed motionless behind the desk. "I want to catch the sports highlights before they end, let's go." And instead of waiting on my response, Charlie blew past me and headed towards the double doors, leaving Edward and me in the office.

"Everything okay?" I asked, seeing Edward's expression lighten, but the smile he shared was tight. He bounded from around the desk, reaching me in a few short strides, his hands immediately to my back, pushing me flush against him. One hand slipped up, finding its way behind my jaw and cupping it within his palms. He reached down, asking for a kiss I willingly gave.

 _Come home_.

Phil's words reverberated in my mind, my grip tightening on Edward as if he were to disappear right in front of me.

"Stay with me tonight," He breathed, pressing his lips to my jaw.

"I have to take Charlie home." I half-moaned.

"After?" He asked with another kiss to my neck.

"Maybe," I said, feeling him pull away only to look down at me, brushing wayward strays of hair behind my ear. "I have to look out for him," I said as Edward narrowed his eyes at me, applying pressure on his grip as he shook his head.

"You don't have to do anything," He said, honestly.

"I know," I whispered, reaching up to press my lips against his. "How did he do?"

"Barely participated, but, that's Charlie. He never did before either."

"It's just for show," I reminded him with a lift of my shoulders, finding myself pulling away. "Nothing more or less."

"Do you realize that?" Edward asked, his candor coming from the right place. It was as if he could sense my dilemma earlier, the small twinge of hopefulness I felt in the hallway before the meeting had ended. I knew I was hard to get through to, my emotions caged up and hidden away but for some reason, Edward could see right through me. I offered him a half smile, reaching up and giving him one last kiss before letting go.

 _Come home._

The words stung deep in my skin, reminding me there was a life I had left outside of Forks, one I had constantly found myself forgetting. We walked out of the office together, and Edward was almost immediately swarmed with those from the meeting. He gave me an apologetic look, but I only smiled, knowing he was cherished within this community. I left him with his people, and with a simple promise that I would see him tomorrow.

The car ride home was silent despite my attempt to engage in conversation with Charlie about the meeting. Quiet and still, he reminded me of myself. Walls up, head down. When we arrived home, he bolted from the car and into the house. It was no surprise when I walked in; he was already on his recliner with a bottle of whiskey, watching the sports highlights. Instead of picking a fight, I dragged myself upstairs and under a hot shower just before climbing into bed.

 _Come home._

The words repeated in my mind like a broken record. Charlie was still a mess, still needed help even if he couldn't see it for himself. The house, while now paid for and up to date, was still at risk of being taken, especially if he couldn't find a job. And my relationship with Edward now added another complication to the mix. My feelings for him were still hard to pinpoint, but I knew whatever they were, they were strong. And I knew he felt it too, which is why it made this decision all that much harder. I rationalized with myself that no answers were needed today since I had given Phil until the holidays before I would return.

The only question now was – would I follow through?

* * *

 _AN: Thank you for those who have favorited, followed and reviewed. I appreciate each of you so much._

 _Thank you to Fran for being such a lovely person and fixing my errors. I owe you._

 _See you next time,_

 _\- ii_


	13. Fragile

_Chapter Song - lovely by Billie Eilish & Khalid_

 _"Need a place to hide but I couldn't find one near,  
Wanna feel alive outside, I can't fight my fear.  
Isn't it lovely all alone?  
Heart made of glass, my mind of stone.  
Tear me to pieces, skin to bone.  
Hello, welcome home."_

* * *

 _Late October._

Charlie sat across the table as he opened his menu, skimming through despite the fact that we both knew he was going to order the same thing he has for the past three weeks _._

 _Three weeks._

I didn't know how, but I was able to find some semblance of a routine in Forks. It started as a way for Charlie to get more exposure within the community in a more positive light. My plan was to get him to mingle with the locals so they could see he wasn't always either at his house or at Masen's. Somehow, it worked. Typically closed off, I would catch Charlie from time to time nodding his head at the gentlemen on the stools by the counter and sometimes even exchanging a few pleasantries with those who passed our table.

He would never admit it, but I could tell he enjoyed having some form of actual interaction with something other than a whiskey bottle. And so, that started our tradition of eating at the café on the same days, same time and even same table.

In addition to this new routine, Charlie continued to attend AA every week. He never participated, at least, that's what I was told, but I never complained. I knew going was a feat in itself, and if I could keep this up, I knew I could get him on the right track. I already saw improvement; his will to do things other than just drink was a little staggering to me at first. It started with small things, like him picking up his dishes after he ate lunch in his recliner, or cleaning out the gutters after the falling leaves from autumn clogged them. I even caught him looking up jobs in the area while on the computer when I came home one night from Edward's.

He was trying, and that was more than he has ever done before.

We sat at the table closest to the counter, just underneath the TV tucked in the corner playing the local news. As Charlie continued looking over the menu, I spared a glance to the table near the windows, a surge of grief wafting through me as I remembered sitting at that same table as a child, but with both of my parents. As far as eating out goes, Carver's Café was the only restaurant available in Forks, but Charlie and I made a silent agreement to avoid _that_ table.

"Evenin' Swans," A voice disrupted my thoughts, and I turned to see Sue in her navy waitress dress, producing a white pad and pencil from the pocket of her black apron. "How are we doing tonight?"

"Good," Charlie said immediately, clearing his throat to cover his heightened tone. I pressed my lips together to avoid a smile, which Charlie noticed immediately, grumbling something under his breath.

"How are you, Sue?" I asked, extending the conversation that Charlie was too embarrassed to do.

"Can't complain, but if I did no one would listen," She joked, showing off her warm smile. She couldn't have been much younger than Charlie, but she carried her age well. She could pass in her thirties despite the strands of gray amongst her dark hair and the wrinkles that made their home around her mouth and forehead. "What can I get started for you two? The normal?"

"I think I'll try the Cobb Salad today," I said, handing her my menu.

"And for you, Charlie?" She asked.

"The same," He gruffly said under his breath, handing Sue his menu without eye contact, "Make the coffee Irish if you can," Charlie joked as Sue let out a boisterous laugh. Her demeanor just radiated light, quite the opposite of Charlie. It would do him some good to have a little of her personality rub off on him.

"You and me both, I could stand a little energizing," She smirked, sparing him a wink as Charlie went red. "I'll put your order in right now." As Sue walked away, I watched as Charlie distracted himself with items on the table. Rearranging his utensils to the left as he moved the bowl of sugar packets farther away, his eyes briefly glancing to meet mine, catching my stare.

"Don't start," He scowled.

"What? I didn't say anything,"

"You don't have to say anything, I can tell what you are thinking just by your face," He said as I rolled my eyes, leaning back into my chair.

"She's cute. And when's the last time you went on a date?" I asked, wondering if there _had_ been any other women since Mom.

"I'm out of that business," He said. "Don't have the energy to get back in the dating life. Plus, I have my whiskey to keep me warm."

"That's sad," I added.

"It's not sad for me. And do you really want to talk about dating? How about we talk about you and Edward?" He challenged. It surprised me he brought up the subject of Edward at all, considering he avoided the conversation about our relationship for the past several weeks. "Don't think for a second that I don't know where you go at night."

He wasn't wrong. Edward was part of my routine.

The better part of my day was spent with Charlie, helping him when he needed, organizing his life back into place. But for the past few weeks, once we came home from the diner or had dinner at home, I would leave.

Every night, I would find myself at Masen's, meeting Edward in his office in the back or up in the front at the bar with either Jasper or Riley. We would spend a reasonable amount of time hanging out, but we were both eager to enjoy our privacy. Up in his loft, it was like nothing else existed besides us. And in the times we didn't spend cooking together, listening to music or talking, we were in bed. When I was with Edward, they were moments I cherished, but to be with someone in such an intimate and raw way, it changed me. He dug inside of me, uncovering emotions I swore I would never experience again at the risk of being hurt. He was removing every doubt at an alarming rate. I was scared shitless. But his warmth eased my natural anxiety. He was changing me. Once closed off and guarded, I was opening up not just to him, but to others. I found myself engaging in more conversation and even felt a sense of friendship between myself and Emmett and Jasper.

My time spent with him helped me forget about the decisions I would need to make in the future.

Charlie never approached the topic of my relationship with Edward. I'm not sure if he actually enjoyed entertaining the idea of us together, not that I was forthcoming with any information. I never surfaced the topic. Instead, we skirted around it as if it wasn't happening. I wasn't hiding our association; Charlie just made it clear that the less he knew, the better.

So, it was a surprise Charlie brought Edward up at all, clearly using him as a defense to take the heat off himself. The air turned awkward, Charlie clearing his throat as he leaned back into his chair, the wood creaking in protest.

"All right, I'll drop it," I said, laying my crossed arms onto the table. "How is the job hunting going?"

"Fine," Charlie said gruffly. "I have an interview next week."

"What?" I asked, surprised but elated. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, Bella – don't make it a big thing," He groaned, now crossing his arms. I cleared my throat, pressing my lips together as I calmed my demeanor. I was becoming worried about Charlie's luck in finding a job. Since opening the loan behind his back, I had planned to get him a job, get a paycheck in, and send it to the bank so Charlie would not get suspicious about the fact they haven't tried to reach out to us. Despite my excuse about getting an extension, I knew he would become wary of a month with no word from the bank, especially with the previous threats of foreclosure.

I was cautious, making sure I changed Charlie's billing from paper mail to paperless. I even went so far as switching the phone number on his account from his to mine. My intention was not to lie, but I knew how Charlie would react if he found out. What he didn't know, didn't hurt him and in turn saved the house. At least, that's what I kept reminding myself.

"Sorry. So, where is this interview at?"

"At the plant. Billy Black was able to put in a good word for me," He said just as Sue stopped by, setting down our drinks. Charlie grabbed a few sugars, sparing Sue a smile before she left. "It's not much,"

"It's something," I reminded him, watching as he ripped the sugar packets opened, dumping them into the cup. Then, from the inner pocket of his jacket, he pulled out his flask, discretely opening it and pouring a shot into his coffee.

"Seriously?" I groaned, my eyes darting around the room to make sure no one took notice before he slipped it back, grabbing his mug handle to take a sip.

"I got the interview," He shrugged.

"But you need to get the job," I challenged.

"No one saw."

"That's not the point."

"You know, in the past fourteen some years that I haven't seen you, this is not how I thought things would play out when I saw you again," He said, leaning back with the mug in his hand.

"What? You slipping whiskey into your coffee?" I asked, taking a drink of water. "That doesn't seem out of character."

"No, you being back here trying to get my life together. Or what little you can of it," He said with a shrug. "I don't know. It's just strange to think about."

It was strange to think about. This time last year, I was freshly out of college and preparing myself for a new job. Never did I think I would be back in Forks, helping my alcoholic father get a job to save his house. Even on my way here, I never thought I would spend as much time as I already have in a town I originally wanted nothing to do with. But never did I take the time to even entertain the thought that my mother would relapse, causing her inevitable death.

"It is," I said. "Shit happens."

Charlie laughed, looking at me with a smile.

"Shit happens." He agreed.

"Can you promise me something?" I asked as he looked up, "Please just try with this interview. Not your normal _I could care less about what happens to me_ attitude you typically have."

"It's part of my charm," He smiled.

"Charlie," I said sternly. "For me. Please," I begged, watching as his face fell, looking down at his coffee cup. We sat there silent for a few moments, until he looked to me, his arm reaching forward as his elbow rested on the table. His hand was just a few inches from me with his little finger lifted. His mustache twitched as I gave him a smile, reaching forward to wrap my pinky around his.

 _Promise_.

xx

As the sun set over Forks, I made inside Masen's, the warmth heating my cheeks instantly, a stark contrast from the cold October night. A few people were scattered across the bar, Monday night a usually slow one. I tugged off my jacket, the sound of the billiard balls smashing together echoing in the room along with the rock music that played over the stereo. Jasper saw me coming, turning and reaching for the coffee pot at the side of the bar. Jasper had also become a part of my routine, and besides time spent with Edward, was one of my favorite parts.

Monday nights were for bookkeeping, and Edward closed himself in the back until he was done, which left me time to talk to Jasper. Over time, I found we shared several things.. Jasper was also a writer, and we spent the small time we had brainstorming ideas for new material, providing advice and going back and forth over our favorite authors.

He told me he had plans to write a series of Civil War novels, both fiction and nonfiction. He had ancestors that served in the war, and their letters depicting their tales of travel had been handed down through generations within the family. His enthusiasm and passion made it easy for me to feel comfortable with him, even sharing a few ideas I had been wrangling with.

"Hey, Bella," Jasper smiled, handing me my mug.

"Hey, Jazz." I sat myself on the bar stool, taking a drink.

"I worked a little bit on my chapter last night," He said.

"How did it go?"

"Better than I anticipated; got a few paragraphs in," He began, "How about you?"

"I have no time to write," I laughed.

"You should make time, maybe stop coming here so much." He suggest with a smile as I rolled my eyes. "You have a lot of really great ideas."

"I'll make time, it's just ... right now I'm trying to get Charlie's life together," I explained.

"Why?" Jasper asked.

"I just need to," I said with a shrug. "Once he has a job, I can worry less."

"And then focus on you?" He asked as I nodded. "How are you going to do that?"

"I don't know."

"Sounds to me like you have some soul-searching to do, Swan," Jasper said, moving towards the other end of the bar to serve the few locals who just arrived. I tapped my thumb against my coffee mug as I chew on my bottom lip. His words resonated with me and I knew the time I spent at school, cultivating my future had been temporarily set back so I could focus on Charlie. I wondered how or if it would be different if he got the job at the plant. Would he take it seriously enough to at least slow down his drinking to be able to function properly at work? Or would he pull a classic Charlie and ruin it all, putting us back to square one?

"Hey, Jake. How's the force treating you?" Jasper's voice brought me out of my thoughts as I turned to see Jacob Black leaning himself against the bar. Wrapped in my own thoughts, I had missed him walking in with a few of his buddies who made their way to the pool table in the corner of the room.

I remembered my last encounter with Jacob at the hospital, his warning about Edward. I felt annoyed by his presence, even more so when I felt his eyes on me.

"Good … _Great_. Just protecting the streets of Forks," His words were slurred, as if he had already been drinking prior to getting here.

"Yeah? What kind of trouble gets riled up in this town?" Jasper snorted, the sound not lost on Jacob who sat back into his seat, "What can I get you?"

"Rum and Coke," He requested as Jasper began to make his drink. "You'd be surprised. It's always the quiet towns that harbor the most secrets. Pill mills, drug running, _addicts_ … Can't be too careful." Despite being several seats down, his acidic tone could be heard from across the room. I tried to pay attention to something other than him, but I spared a glance, catching his gaze instantly. "You're not even going to say hi to me, Bells?"

"I didn't want to interrupt your conversation," I said flatly, looking to Jasper who slid Jake his drink, his eyes bouncing between the two of us. Jake laughed at his end of the bar, looking to the chair next to me as if asking permission to move. He didn't give me a chance to respond, up and off his seat with his drink in his hand as he settled next to me, the stench of alcohol wafting off his breath before he even took a sip.

"How have you been, Bells?" He asked, my eyes looking to Jasper who moved closer in our direction, sensing the uneasiness in the room. "I just wanted to apologize, truly, for what I said at the hospital."

"It's fine, Jake," I assured him with a tight smile. "No reason to bring it back up."

"But I was a dick. I mean, I haven't seen you in years and the second conversation I have with you, I'm a dick. I swear I wasn't like this, it just comes with the job," He said, "How's Charlie?"

"He's good, has an interview with the Plant next week thanks to your father," I began, steering the conversation elsewhere. "How is Billy?"

"He's great, doing fine," He grinned, his body moving enough for our knees to touch. "How are you, Bells?"

"I'm great, Jake," I assured, easing myself away.

"Hey, I think your buddies want to start your match," Jasper interrupted, nodding to the pool table in the back. "I want to see that bank shot you're always bragging about, man." Jasper was close now, directly in front of us as he eased his palms onto the bar, ready to provide a barrier between us.

"They are fine," Jake shook his comment off as Jasper leaned back, pulling out his phone. During this time, Jacob had inched closer, his chest nearly to my shoulder as I felt the warmth of his breath on my cheek. Despite Jasper being near, I felt apprehensive, his proximity forcing me on edge "Listen, about the other day at the hospital,"

"I said it was fine, Jake."

"I don't have anything against Cullen, I swear. Not personally, anyways."

At the mention of Edward, I knew I needed to get away. I stepped off the stool, but before I was out of reach, a hand grasped my wrist tightly, my eyes widening as I looked up. Jacob's own expression looked horrified by his actions, but before he had time to let go, my instincts kicked into overdrive and I reeled my free hand back, lunging forward as my fist connected with his nose.

There was scrambling, Jasper yelling in the background as he nearly jumped over the bar, Jacob clutching his bloody face as his body hit the ground. I felt arms around me, moving me out of the way as a blistering pain thumped like a heartbeat in my left wrist. Looking back to the commotion, I noticed Jacob was no longer on the ground, but instead in the hands of a man with a mess of crimson hair. My heart leaped into my throat as Jacob's friends, and fellow policemen, came to his aid.

There was shouting, Jasper trying to peel Edward away who said something to Jacob, something that caused him to retaliate. Edward pushed Jasper out of the way, catching him off guard as he faltered, both Jacob and Edward gearing up for a fight.

"Stop it!" I shouted, my voice barely breaking over the music. Steady on my feet, I made way toward Edward, gripping onto his arm. "Edward," I pleaded, his eyes catching mine. "Just let him go. Please."

"You are a lousy piece of shit, Cullen," Jacob spat, blood decorating the floor.

"Get the fuck out of my bar, Jacob," Edward snarled, pulling away from me as Jacob's friends came to his aid. "Everyone out! We're closing for the night!" He shouted as the few locals grumbled under their breath.

"This is the type of shit I'm talking about, Bella. He's on a trigger, just like Charlie," Jacob growled as he neared the door. "Don't be fooled by the persona he puts out. He's still a fucking addict." It was the last thing he said before exiting, my eyes turning to Edward who watched him leave, fury in his eyes and his chest broadened. I went to reach for him, but he caught my movements immediately, turning away, pushing a chair to the ground in the process.

"Let me see," Jasper came to me, grabbing my left arm and inspecting my wrist. His touch irritated the tenderness, his hand maneuvering me under the bar light to get a better view of the damage I had caused. I sat up on a stool, watching as he gently placed my arm on the coolness of the bar, the skin of my knuckles red as my wrist began to swell.

"Is it broken?" I asked.

"I think you'd be in a bit more pain. Just sprained. I think we have a wrist brace in our first aid kit," Jasper said, continuing to inspect as I turned my chin over my shoulder, seeing Edward pace near the pool table, whispering something under his breath. "Hey, man, you okay?" Jasper asked, looking toward Edward.

"No, I'm definitely not okay. Jacob Black is a fucking moron," Edward growled, "I need a fucking drink," I felt sick at his comment, looking away as he began pinching the bridge of his nose. "What the fuck was _that_ Bella?"

"What was what?" I questioned, turning back to him, surprised at his threatening tone. Jasper had let go of me, excusing himself as he made his way into the back.

"Why the fuck did you stop me?" He snarled, stopping in the middle of the bar as his eyes held mine. "He was fucking asking for it, causing issues in _my_ bar, that fucking dick."

"Are you kidding me?" I laughed emptily, "You are angry with _me_ because I didn't want you to hit a cop?"

"I don't give a fuck what type of title they give him. He's the same old, arrogant Jacob I've always known. In fact, the badge makes him even more of a fucking prick," Edward scowled, pacing once again up and down the wooden floor.

"You would have gone to jail!"

"I don't care."

"Well, I do! What the hell is wrong with you?" I bellowed irritation and fiery anger growing rampant inside of me. But before Edward could answer my question, Jasper re-entered with the brace, along with a clean cloth in his hands. He filled the cloth with ice, twisting the top to secure it and set it gently onto my wrist.

"Fuck, Jazz, you shouldn't be doing that, _I_ should," Edward groaned, moving towards us as he grabbed the makeshift ice pack from Jasper, nodding towards the door. "You don't have to stick around, I'll close up."

"Are you sure?" Jasper asked hesitantly, glancing briefly to the bar.

"I'll be fine," Edward said with certainty, nodding his head as Jasper stepped away, gathering his things before leaving the two of us. Edward looked down at my arm, holding the pack still as a crease began to create above his brow, lost in his thoughts. His anger seemed to linger, but the majority of it dissipating as his attention swiveled its focus on me.

"I'm okay," I reassured him, "I'm tougher than I look."

Edward didn't smile, but spared me a glance, "I know."

"Feels like old times, right?" I questioned, his brows raising in confusion. "The arguing? We did more of that before we were … Whatever we are now." I said as his face softened, the crease disappearing as he let out a deep breath from his nose.

"What are we?" He asked, reaching forward to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

"I don't know," I answered honestly, the two of us looking down to my wrist. "I think I can put the brace on now." Edward removed the ice pack, grabbing the brace and peeling the straps from the Velcro as he slipped my hand inside. He let out a breath as he secured it, his eyes trailing to the other hand, the one Jacob had grabbed. My pale skin did no justice in hiding any marks, the smallest hint of pink tracing around my wrist. I watched his face contort into a sadness, his eyes opening to show his grief. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"I fucking hate him for making me feel so weak," He admitted.

"What do you mean?" I asked, watching as his eyes traveled to the bar behind us, gazing over the bottles on display. His eyes moved back to me, the green filled with regret as he leaned back on a stool, hanging his head in guilt.

"I saw his hands on you just before everything happened and it was like this blinding rage," He began, "And all I could think about was you and how angry I was and how nothing would calm me down except for a shot of vodka. And I hate myself for it."

I watched the conflict in his eyes, his need to be protective battling with his want to cave into the addiction he battled on a daily basis. I had seen the same battle within Mom, one that plagued her almost every day, especially when things were bad.

Jacob had made him so angry, it nearly pushed him to the point of relapse, and he felt _sorry_ for it. I wasn't sure if Charlie ever felt sorry for wanting a drink. Edward's hard work and dedication to stay sober was almost singlehandedly destroyed by one interaction. The fragility of abstinence was clear to me now more than ever. I stood from the stool and closed the gap between us. I didn't hesitate in pulling him into a hug, my arms slipped under his and around his back. He didn't respond at first, his body limp against mine until I squeezed, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. His grip became firmer, his arms circling my waist as he let out a sigh of relief.

"When we first move to Phoenix," I began, pulling away from the hug but staying close, "… my mom couldn't find a job. She couldn't keep a job here in Forks, not when she was addicted to pills. So, she had no experience when we went to Phoenix, and she had bills that were due," I paused, feeling Edward squeeze at my sides. "For weeks, I saw her come home, defeated and cry herself to sleep because she much rather do that then give in to what she really wanted … I can't relate, but I understand. And I would never be angry at you for it."

Edward looked at me as if trying to piece together the words I had just spoken. I had hoped he understood that while I didn't personally know how he felt, I could still try and recognize his struggles because of my experiences with my mother. I knew addiction stole what little joys you had in life and any type of extreme emotion could be a trigger to relapse. Edward was no exception to this rule.

Suddenly, he pulled me in for another embrace, holding me tight as we basked in our nearness. I could feel his body calming, the easiness relaxing him almost instantaneously. His grip on me didn't lessen, his fingers splayed against my back as he held me to his chest, the tightness increasing as if he were afraid I would disappear. I didn't mind, holding onto him with the same intensity to let him know I was here. We stood for a few moments more before Edward spoke, his voice deep in his throat.

"I'm yours," He whispered as I blinked up at him. "What _we_ are. It's doesn't matter what it's called. I'm yours."

His words warmed me, his candor sparking me from the inside as I reached up and pressed my lips firmly against his. He moved between my legs, his head dipping to meet the kiss, intensifying it as he coaxed open my mouth. The adrenaline from earlier pumped at an accelerated rate, the kiss growing more passionately as our hands grabbed whatever we could. Edward swooped my legs under his arms, pulling me onto him, taking me to the back office where we found our way to the couch. Our clothes were lost within the room as he laid back, my legs straddling his hips as we moved in unison, our bodies covered in a sheen of sweat.

We came together, our hands gripping tightly as we rode our high, our breathing heavy and warm. I slowed my movements, as our lips hovered together, my palms cupping his cheeks as I whispered to him, "I'm yours."

* * *

 _AN: Thank you to those who favorite, follow and review. I am so appreciative of you humans!_

 _Thank you to my beta, Fran. What a gal!_

 _To help immerse you more into this story and these characters, I created a Spotify playlist with each of the chapter songs. I will update the songs as I update the chapters. Due to not being able to add links, I attached the playlist onto my Facebook. Feel free to add me and you can check out the songs on my page!_

 _. .94043_

 _Thank you so much for your support._

 _\- ii_


	14. Habits

_Chapter Song - The Night We Met by Lord Huron_

 _"I am not the only traveler,_  
 _Who has not repaid his debt._  
 _I've been searching for a trail to follow again._  
 _Take me back to the night we met."_

* * *

"It's an interview for a plant worker, Bella, not the CEO," Charlie huffed at the end of his bed as I dug through his closet, pushing aside the multitude of plaid shirts and blue jeans to find anything appropriate for an interview. I couldn't remember the last time I saw Charlie in anything professional, even when he was Chief. I made a mental note to myself to help him update his wardrobe

"You would never work for Corporate America," I responded, finally finding a pair of gray slacks.

"That's the damn truth. There's a reason corporate and corrupt sound so alike. I'm telling you, it's the worst thing about this country," He was beginning to go on a tangent, one I ignored as I stumbled across a white button-up. "Those executives are getting paid top dollar to sit on their asses and think of ways to screw the lower class. It's crooked, I'm telling ya."

"Do you have a tie?"

"I'm not wearing a damn tie," He deadpanned. "And I'm not wearing a button up, Bella; I have plenty of good sweaters."

"You are not going to go to an interview in one of your sweaters, they're all tattered!"

"They are not!" He argued as I swung back to the closet, pulling out the closest black wool sweater. I grabbed the ends and revealed the moth-eaten holes, sticking my pointer finger through one for good measure. Charlie huffed, crossing his arms as he averted his eyes. "I've never seen those before."

"Bullshit."

"They won't notice a few tiny holes, Bella. Ain't no one going to refuse me a job just because my sweater is a little worn at the bottom."

"It doesn't look good."

"I'm not wearing a damn tie!" He growled as I exhaled in frustration, walking to the other side of the bed laying out the button up and slacks. He looked away, arms crossed as he huffed expletives, a few words escaping about _damn outfits_ and _meddling daughters_. I studied the ensemble and knew a dark tie would complete it. But I also understood that getting Charlie to agree would be a fight, one I was sure would be worth it.

"Okay, can we compromise?" I asked as he turned to me, "No tie. But, you need to wear the button up. Deal?" I stretched my hand towards him, pinky out. He went back and forth between me and the outfit, reaching and scratching at his mustache, noticeably cringing at the idea of wearing anything else besides what he had been for the past, twenty-some years. But, just like me, he knew the fight wasn't worth it. So, with a grunt and a nod, he reached out and wrapped his pinky around mine, eliciting a smile from me.

"Do you need my help?" I asked, grabbing ahold of the button-down.

"I can dress myself, I'm not _that_ drunk," He stood from the bed, crossing the room to his dresser as he pulled out a men's, plain white tank just before grabbing his flask from his pocket, unscrewing the cap and taking a drink. I winced at the sight of it.

"Maybe leave the flask here today," I suggested casually, shrugging my shoulders as he shot me a glare. "And you'll need to brush your teeth before we go."

"You think I don't know how to hide my alcoholism?" He asked lightheartedly as I rolled my eyes, laying his shirt back down on the bed. "Been doing it for years."

"Barely."

"Bite me," He grinned as I walked past him, leaving him to his privacy. As Charlie prepared for his interview, I busied myself downstairs with the dishes, cleaning the few that were left in the sink and stacking them in the drying rack. Once done, I sat down at the table and unlocked my phone, checking my email. November first was nearing, and so was the first payment of the loan I took out just a few short weeks ago. I had enough in my savings to cover the first couple of months, but I knew I was holding out for this job more than Charlie was. I had toyed with the idea of attempting to convince Charlie to allow me to handle the bills, but even I knew that was a stretch. _I don't need your help; I can handle it on my own_. He was so adamant about refusing help when he needed it the most. I suppose that's where I get my stubborn attitude. I at least needed him to start paying the monthly mortgage payment, and I would find some way to take care of the bank loan, which was in my name.

I didn't want to lie to him, but I was torn between the guilt of sneaking around and the need to just get him on his feet, so I didn't have to worry. I knew the hole I was digging, and I wasn't so sure if I was going to be able to get out of it.

On several occasions, I also found myself trying to bring up the secret I knew of his previous addiction to heroin. Again, silent words fell to my lips. It would only cause chaos and friction, and I needed him to stay focused despite how I truly felt about it. But things were good between us, probably the best they have been in a long time. We had our differences, but mostly, we still managed to find a middle ground and compromise.

Never did I think I would be back here in Forks, thinking of how well my relationship with my father was going. But here I was. And I knew the secrets I harbored could ruin it all if it got out.

I heard the door open upstairs followed by the stairs creaking to life as Charlie stepped into the foyer, turning to the opening into the kitchen as he looked at me with a face of disgust. I hid my smile; his gray trousers hanging loose with an untucked shirt. It really had been a long time since he had dressed in something other than plaid.

"I look like a prick," He groaned as I stifled a laugh, pushing out my chair and making my way towards the foyer. The top of his shirt was wrinkled, and I wish I had a little more time to iron. I tried to smooth them out with my hands, the attempt unsuccessful as I finally gave up and stepped back.

"You need a belt. You have one of those, right?" I smiled as he cut me a glare. "And you need to tuck in your shirt."

"I feel like an idiot. And I'm wearing my boots," He said as my nose scrunched. "I don't want to hear it, it wasn't part of the deal!"

"Fine. I can live with the boots, even though it's going to throw the whole outfit off," I grumbled as he rolled his eyes. I looked over his outfit again, and despite the few minor articles that needed to be touched up, he didn't look bad. I had noticed he trimmed his mustache and shaved the stubble from his jaw, his long hair no longer in his eyes, pushed back with some type of product. If one had met him for the first time on the street, they might think he was a functioning adult. "You look good, Charlie."

I could tell by his body language he felt unsure of how to react to the comment as I didn't compliment him often or vice versa. Despite the number of hours we had spent together in the past month and a half, there were still times we were uncertain how to be around each other. I guess that's what fourteen years of absence can do to a relationship.

"Yeah, well," He cleared his throat, diverting eye contact. "Thanks to you."

I smiled at him, nodding my head to acknowledge his gratitude. "Hurry up, we need to leave soon." Charlie maneuvered himself back up the stairs, leaving me alone in the foyer.

xx

I watched as Edward stood behind the bar, leaning against the counter as he causally mingled in conversation with Harry Clearwater, cleaning glasses to busy his time. Emmett was helping him with the day shift today, the two a hilarious combination that made my stomach hurt from laughing so much. Their back and forth was just as bad as ours when we first met, Emmett usually saying something that would elicit a smart remark from Edward, to which Emmett would then become physical in either a push or a headlock, something that annoyed Edward to no end.

"I could fire you, you know," Edward threatened as Emmett erupted with laughter, slapping his back.

"I wish you would, but then you'd be screwed without me here. Especially in the morning since you've been too busy upstairs cozying up with Bella," Emmett waggled his eyebrows at me, an impish smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Do not drag me into this," I warned.

"Emmett," Edward growled, shaking his head.

"You may want to think about getting rubber pads for the legs of your bed. I can hear _everything_ ," He cackled as my face became alarmingly heated, Edward responding by punching him in the shoulder.

"Shut the hell up, Emmett!"

"I can hear it, too," Harry added as I covered my face in embarrassment.

"I told you." Emmett bellowed, grabbing a beer and popped off the cap, handing it to an older man, Waylon, who made his way to the bar. "Bella, don't be embarrassed. It keeps things interesting in the morning."

"One more word and we aren't going tonight," Edward cautioned as Emmett turned, glowering at him. Edward had invited me to join him and his friends in Port Angeles where Emmett's girlfriend, Rosalie, was organizing a party for work. It was being held right on the beach at a new restaurant. We were going primarily to fill space to help with publicity as she worked with an agency that helped new businesses gain local attraction. Initially, Edward wasn't going to attend, but since we're together, he felt it was a great opportunity for us to get away from Forks. Rosalie had even booked us hotel rooms to stay as the drive was over an hour.

I agreed, taking the chance to be with Edward somewhere other than Masen's, but I felt my own hesitation with being away from Charlie. It was silly, but the progress I had made was built on my presence around him. Being over an hour away, instead of just down the road at Masen's, made me feel as if anything could happen. Edward soothed my worries, asking me to trust that Charlie could manage without me but knew if I didn't want to, we could stay in Forks. He was always so accommodating, I didn't want to take this away from us.

"You are going. Both of you," Emmett said, glancing between the two of us as Edward made his way around the bar, pushing my hair behind my back to place a kiss to my temple. "We gotta make Rose look good, which means hang around the bar, socialize for a few, before sneaking a bottle of Tequila to the beach and getting shitfaced. Except for Edward, of course." Emmett said matter-of-factly as Edward rolled his eyes.

I noticed Emmett joked with Edward's prior addiction, something that bothered me at first, until Edward told me it was Emmett's coping mechanism and that he was so used to it, he didn't find it offensive. It was Emmett's way of turning a dark situation lighter.

"Should I invite Charlie?" I joked as they both laughed, Emmett, shaking his head.

"Charlie's a good time, but I'm not dragging his ass off the beach when he passes out," He preached just as the door opened, "Speak of the devil," Emmett said as we all turned towards the front. I rolled my eyes as Charlie already had his white, button-up shirt untucked, his hair no longer behind his ears but now straggling in front of his eyes.

"I told you to text me when you were done," I said, watching as he made his way to the bar, taking a seat next to me.

"It's only a few blocks away. Plus, I wanted to do a celebratory shot for being newly employed," He said calmly, nodding his head to Emmett and Edward.

"Are you serious?" I asked, grabbing his arm to try and contain my excitement.

"Who would employ you?" Harry Clearwater laughed from the other side of the bar as Charlie shot him a glare.

"The Plant, that's who," Charlie said pointedly, flipping Harry the middle finger.

"They're desperate," Harry snorted.

"Screw you, Clearwater!" Charlie grunted as I turned his attention back to me, squeezing at his arm as I reached over and planted a kiss onto his cheek.

"I told you, you'd get it." I smiled.

"Bella," Charlie groaned, wiping at his cheek like a toddler.

"Congrats, Charlie," Edward said as Charlie nodded. "You should be proud of yourself."

"Yeah, well, where's that shot?" He asked as I looked to Edward who waited for approval and I nodded my head. He grabbed a shot glass and the bottle of whiskey, filling it to the rim.

"Glad to see those AA meetings are working out for you," Edward joked as Charlie smirked, shrugging his shoulders. I held out hope long enough to see this through, and a part of me visibly relaxed at the very fact Charlie now had a job. The pieces were starting to fall into place, and I only hoped it would continue that way. Charlie grabbed his shot glass, looking to Edward with a smile.

"Old habits die hard."

xx

Edward had picked me up later that evening at the house, ready for our trip to Port Angeles. I wore a short-sleeve, navy dress that crossed in the back and reached just above my knees, something I had picked up the other week from in town. I curled my natural waves, pinning them back as I attempted to look semi-decent for this casual affair. Edward couldn't stop talking about my dress, his hands from time to time reaching to stroke the soft fabric as he made multiple comments on how I looked. He wore black slacks, a white button down and a skinny tie compromising his outfit. His shirt was tight enough to show his muscular form, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as his crimson hair was no different than he usually had it, unkempt and in disarray.

The car windows were cracked as air streamed in, mixing with Edward's music as we laughed about something Emmett had done earlier that day. I felt as if I had no care in the world when I was with him. It was both terrifying and astounding the way we were when alone. My comfortability with him made our relationship that much deeper and I found myself relaxing in his presence. I knew he felt the same; I could tell by the way he touched. His hand was never far, always somewhere on my body to keep the energy from physical connection going. I didn't mind, in fact, I craved the electricity ... it created something I never wanted to let go of.

Port Angeles was just over an hour away, the beach coming into view as he drove towards a parking lot filled with other cars. He let go of my knee as we stepped out and we immediately found each other at the other side, his hand grabbing mind as he kept me close.

"Bella!" A voice sang out, as a flash of plum ran across the gravel parking lot in six-inch heels, right in my direction. Alice's dress was held up by two skinny straps that crossed at her chest, the front dipping just slightly, displaying her small physique. She was my height with the shoes, pulling me into a sudden hug as my eyes widened in surprise, patting her back. "I can't tell you how glad I am that you're here!"

"Hi Alice," I laughed, looking back to Edward who eyed me apologetically. Jasper made his way over, both he and Edward exchanging a glance as we made our way into the restaurant. It sat just at the edge of the beach, the modern wood and glass making it seem sophisticated.

"Finally, I've been waiting for you guys!" Emmett hollered as we crossed the threshold, piano music filtering throughout the room as more people came in behind us. It was definitely as nice inside as it was the outside, with tables adorning one end with leather booths near the open fireplace. The majority of the walls were made of glass, the moon shining down at the shore as people admired the view.

"I need a cocktail," Alice said, tugging me along towards the bar, the boys in tow behind us.

"There's, Rose," Emmett said behind us, making a beeline towards the opposite direction.

She was beautiful. The kind of beautiful you didn't often see in places like Port Angeles. She was New York City or Los Angeles, beautiful. Her large curls nearly made it to her waist, which was exposed between her black leather pencil skirt and white lace crop top. She towered over me, black stilettos to make her just that even more intimidating. Everything about her was voluptuous, which made me look as if I had just walked out of Sunday Church. She was smiling as people walked past her, warmth radiating as she mingled with the guests. Emmett had spotted her, leaving the bar and walking past the crowd to the set of stairs that led into an open room where round tables were placed. When he reached her, he whispered something in her ear that elicited another warm smile, the two sharing a private kiss as I looked away.

"Can I get you a drink?" The bartender asked as Alice crossed her arms over the bar, sliding herself onto one of the metal seats.

"Manhattan, please," She said as Jasper followed by ordering a bourbon, staying close to Alice with his arm draped over her shoulder. The bartender then looked to Edward who stood at my side.

"Can I get a San Pellegrino?" He asked as the man directed his attention towards me.

"Make it two."

"You're not drinking?" She sounded offended as I shrugged, feeling Edward place his hand on the small of my back.

"You can drink, Bella, don't let me stop you." I turned back to him, sparing him a smile as I rested my hand against his knee, reaching over to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. I remembered the last time I drank when I kissed him – it bothered him enough to have to call his sponsor, and I knew I couldn't have that on my conscience again. Being with him was more inviting than any cocktail I could have.

When I pulled from the kiss, I locked sights with bright blue from across the room. Rosalie stood by the window, Emmett at her side with his hand around her waist, socializing with another couple. The warm smile I had witnessed earlier was gone without a trace and this time, replaced with a scowl that was directed towards Edward and I. I tore my gaze away from the intensity of it, thankful that Alice had interrupted us.

"Well, I guess it's just you and me, babe," Alice said, reaching over to kiss his cheek, "Why don't you boys go find us a table, and we'll wait for the drinks?"

"You good?" Edward asked as I nodded, smiling as he left me with a simple kiss, following Jasper out and towards the booth, meeting with Emmett halfway there.

"I'm so glad you came out tonight, Bella," Alice proclaimed as she pushed the seat out next to her, inviting me in. I slid up, smoothing my dress down against my thighs. "I feel like I don't know much about you and you're my cousin's girlfriend. Well … You're his girlfriend, right?"

"Yes," I said, the answer coming naturally.

"I've been wanting to say that for so long!" She squealed, gripping onto my arm. "I wanted to wait until one of you said it, I know I can be a bit overbearing at time. It's just been so long since I've seen him so attentive with something other than his bar. It's refreshing to see."

"He's good to me," I said.

"He's a good guy, despite his past. But, we all have pasts. Some muddier than others," She spared a smile, resting her chin in her palm. "You're not from Forks, are you?"

"I am, but I moved to Phoenix with my mother when I was eleven. I'm back helping out my dad."

"Yes, I am very well acquainted with Charlie," She smiled. "I thought of going into the medical field with my father, so I spent time shadowing him at work. I helped Charlie from time to time,"

"Medical field not for you?" I asked.

"Not my passion, I'm more interested in design. Didn't realize it until I was rearranging the furniture in my father's office," She giggled just as the bartender handed her the drink she ordered. "Jasper told me you like to write?"

"I went to school for it."

"What have you written?"

"A few things here and there. I haven't had much time to dedicate to writing since being back in Forks. Before I left, I had taken a job in publishing but needed to resign," I said, skirting around my mother's death as the reason why I left.

"I have a few connections in Seattle if that's something you're interested in. I don't know how long you're planning on staying. for. I have friends from school that went into the publishing field, and they're always looking for interns to get their foot in the door."

"Really? You would do that?" I was shocked by her graciousness to offer me, all but a stranger, a chance at a job. Her generosity was something I wasn't exactly used to, and I knew if I made a choice to stay in Washington, I would need to find a job. The thought both thrilled and pained me, my mind wondering at the prospect of staying close to Edward but also to the fact of leaving Phil.

Alice sipped on her drink, nodding her head. "Absolutely."

"That's really nice of you," I said with honesty just as the bartender set down Jasper's bourbon and two tall glasses of sparkling water. Alice slid from her chair, Manhattan in one hand, Jasper's drink in the other.

"Anyone who gets Edward in a better mood and away from always sulking in that bar is a friend of mine." She cheered as I grabbed the two sparkling waters, following Alice back towards the booth in the corner where we spotted the boys. I moved in first, sliding next to Edward as I handed him his glass. He thanked me through a kiss, leaving his warmth running through my body.

"Fuck, this is just a bunch of old people," Emmett groaned as we turned our attention towards his voice as he made his way to the booth.

"What did you expect?" Jasper asked, taking a sip of his bourbon. "Strippers and body shots?"

"Well, not the strippers." Emmett whined as a hand appeared on his shoulder, his body turning to show Rosalie in all of her glory, "Oh, great party, babe," He forced a smile as Alice, and I hid our laughter, Rosalie rolling her eyes.

"Hi Alice," Rosalie made her way to Alice who sat at the end of the booth, wrapping her in a tight hug. The two exchanged pleasantries, and when she pulled away, she acknowledged Jasper just before her eyes fell to Edward.

"Rose," Edward nodded towards her, but she ignored him, stepping back and towards Emmett.

"The bonfire is outside if you're bored in here," She said flatly, shooting him a glare. I felt a fire ignite inside of me, one that was boiling at how she acted as if Edward hadn't even said anything to her.

"Rose, this is Bella," Alice said, reaching over to place her hand on my shoulder, "She's with Edward," Alice introduced as Rosalie snorted but spared me a smile, my eyebrows knitting as Edward reached under the table and squeezed.

"Babe," Emmett objected, bumping her shoulder with his as if to persuade her

"Thanks for coming," She said to the both of us, her tone icy just as someone behind us shouted her name. She turned and made her way out, my eyes glancing to Edward who just shrugged.

"She's hard to warm up to," Alice reassured, "Why don't we go out to the bonfire?"

"I'll grab the tequila!" Emmett shouted, turning on his heel and towards the bar.

xx

"Fuck," Emmett grimaced after taking a swig of tequila before passing it off to Jasper. "I forgot how much it burns going down."

We sat in a circle on metal chairs that surrounded a pit of fire. The crackling and pops of the blaze echoing onto the beach as the smell of burning wood wafted in the air. The wind had a bite, but it was unseasonably warm for Washington; nearing the low sixties even this late into the night.

"Yeah, you'll be feeling that later," Edward said with a smirk as Jasper leaned the bottle towards my direction. I shook my head as Jasper passed it back to Alice. "I bet you puke in the ocean by the end of the night,"

"I'll get in on that action," Jasper said, leaning into his chair.

"Fuck you, Edward. Just because I'm drinking for both of us, doesn't mean I'm some lightweight," He growled, taking the bottle from Alice and pouring it back into his mouth, the drink nearly five seconds long. "Fuck!"

"You're an idiot!" Alice punched her brother in his arm, his hand coming up to rub the spot. "I'm not dragging you up to the hotel, you can sleep in the sand!"

"I'll be fine!" Emmett shouted as he and Alice continued to go back and forth.

"If Mom was here ..." She warned, shaking her head. "Speaking of which, Edward, did you invite Bella to dinner tomorrow?"

"Dinner?" I asked, looking back to Edward.

"Mom's having a big dinner tomorrow, she invited all of us. Even you," Alice smiled across the fire, her pale skin illuminated by the orange and red. "I can't believe you didn't tell her, Edward."

"I was getting there, but you can't seem to keep your mouth shut," His tone was clipped, but I reached over and grabbed ahold of his knee, squeezing tightly.

"I've been saying the same shit for years," Emmett slurred, "She can never keep a secret."

"I can too!" Alice squawked, "At least the small stuff!"

"You told Mom I lost my virginity before I even lost it!" Emmett growled. "You were like clairvoyant or some shit!"

"You were going to the cliffs; everyone goes there to lose their virginity."

Edward groaned, turning towards me as I watched the two in amusement, my sight blocking as he stood, grabbing hold of my hands. I looked at him with raised brows but he only encouraged me off the chair, providing a short explanation of our departure, though, I wasn't even sure if they heard it. I stepped out of my ballet flats, grabbing Edward's hand as we made our way to the shore, the sand becoming damp, leaving defined footprints behind us as we walked.

"Are you going to tell me why Rosalie acted the way she did with you?" I asked.

"There's history between us," Edward confessed as I looked up at him in confusion. _History?_ "Not like that, it was _never_ like that with us. I met Rose when I went back to Seattle after my dad died. We hung around the same crowd at a bar called Eclipse," He paused, sparing a look from me. "She was, or is, best friends with Tanya." _Tanya_. I hadn't thought about her since the last time she called Edward a few weeks ago. "When I came back to Forks to get clean, Tanya spiraled, she's _still_ spiraling. I guess Rosalie blames me for it,"

"That's not your fault," I fumed, angry she would place the blame on him. "You can't control what Tanya does."

"I can't. But if it wasn't for me, Tanya wouldn't be in the position she is. I take ownership, I understand my involvement. I'm trying to atone by helping her. But Rose likes to remind me of my mistakes every time we're with each other."

"That's really … _shitty_. I don't like that she does that," I argued, looking to Edward who smiled down at me.

"I can handle Rose, Bella."

"Yeah, well, so can I," I threatened as Edward's eyes gleamed, his arm wrapping around my wait to pull me from the water, my feet covered with dry sand almost immediately.

"I like it when you're protective," He smiled, reaching over and placing a kiss to my temple. "I was going to ask you, you know," Edward said, looking over to me. "About the dinner. It's just … _Alice_."

"She loves you," I smiled, bumping into him. "I know they're your cousins, but they almost seem like your siblings."

"For all intents and purposes, they are. I grew up with them. And Carlisle and Esme, they were more parents to me than my actual ones," He shrugged, the water covering my feet as I walked close to the shoreline. "I'm lucky to have them. But ... I almost lost them. They almost cut me out completely because of my addiction. I was coming home drunk and strung out almost every night. I'll never forgive myself for making Esme cry so much."

I could see his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, his eyes gazing out in front of us as I squeezed at his hand, coaxing him to look at me.

"I'm sure they are proud of you."

"They are, Carlisle especially. One day when I came home from Seattle, he told me he didn't want to bury me too. And it just resonated with me. It was my push to start AA. I don't know if I've ever thanked him for it," Edward ended, looking down to me. "You don't have to come tomorrow if you don't want to. I wasn't expecting you to, and I don't want you to feel pressured, especially by Alice."

"Do you not want me to go?" I questioned as he halted, shaking his head.

"Of course, I do. It's just –"

"What?" I asked as Edward sighed, letting go of my hand.

"The whole reason you stayed in Forks was to help Charlie get shit back into place. He's got a job, he'll save the house," He paused for a moment, allowing me to catch up with his thoughts. "What does that mean for you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Bella," He said flatly, "You know what I mean."

I hesitated on my answer as it was a question I had been battling with for weeks, wondering what my next steps were. It wasn't like me to not have a set plan, to not know what my next steps were. I was at a crossroads, debating on if I should travel back home and continue the life I had known for over fourteen years, or leave it behind and stay in Forks for something else. The pros and cons were all equal, neither outweighing the other. It made my dilemma all the more challenging.

"I have to get Charlie to go to the job and keep it," I said, "Getting the job was the easy part."

"Are you avoiding answering me?" He asked as I shook my head, though I knew his judgement was correct.

"I don't want to think about it. There are things I have to consider with every choice I make and I just need time to process it."

"I won't ask you to stay, if that's not what you want. All I want is for you to just let me know, if you decide to leave," He murmured, his voice betraying him. He didn't want me to leave, but he knew he couldn't ask me to stay. We reached for each other as I felt his hand cup my cheek into his palm. Even if he didn't admit it, I knew – he was scared. The fear of being left was prominent. Both his parents left, neither by choice but somehow, he still ended alone despite the care from his Aunt and Uncle. My heart hurt for him and I knew he needed comfort. I gripped and pulled, directing his lips to mine. He was soft, at first, but once I mewled my approval, this fueled him. His mouth opened, his tongue darting to tease my bottom lip as he pulled me close.

When our lips detached, our eyes opened to meet each other, a secret conversation passing through as he led me back towards the pit. Emmett, Alice, and Jasper were still around the fire, passing the bottle as Edward made a half excuse to get one of the keys to the hotel rooms Rosalie booked. Emmett complained about our departure, but Edward waived him off, the two of us saying our goodbyes as we made our way to the car.

The hotel was only up the street, but because of the anticipation, the travel seemed longer. Grabbing my bag in the back, we made our way out of the car and towards the sliding doors, exchanging quick pleasantries with the front desk before making our way to the elevator. Our hands were never to ourselves, the excitement of being together ruling our motor controls. When the elevator reached our floor, Edward gripped my waist and pulled me out into the hallway with a quick shuffle

He pushed me against the wall, his body protecting mine as we were only steps away from our room. His lips moved along my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as his hands moved from my waist, sliding down to underneath my dress, touching the fabric of my underwear. He pressed himself into me, revealing his intent as his lips found their way back to mine, our tongues mingling together as he stepped away from the wall, guiding me to our room.

With the key card in my hand, I turned in his arms, feeling my hair being swooped to one side, his lips tickling the nape of my neck as I giggled, finding it difficult to unlock the door. Steadying myself, I slipped the card into the slot, turning the knob once the blinking light turned green and we stumbled inside. I dropped my belongings as Edward caught my waist, spinning me back around to face him. He shut the door with his foot, grabbing the edge of my dress and pushing it over my head as I worked on the buttons of his white shirt.

He tugged at my black velvet bra, leaning down as he sprinkled kisses at the tops of my breast. I let out a moan of approval, my fingers raking through his hair as I tilted my head back once he began trailing lower. The heat of his lips traveled down my front ... around my navel, teasing and nipping. I squealed suddenly as I was lifted, Edward wrapping his arms underneath my bottom as he moved me towards the bed, setting me down and pushing one knee to the side to allow me to open for him. His shirt was off, my fingers raking down his back as our lips found each other once again.

Consumed in every bit of him and this moment between us, we escaped into the sheets, the remaining clothes strewn off our bodies as the sounds of the Salish Sea wafted just outside of our window. He was lining up, taking his time and kissing me with a fever that left me breathless, allowing us to enjoy every second. Had it not been for the consistent buzz just across the room, I may have lost myself completely with him. But I registered the noise, pressing my hand against his chest to halt his movements.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked, lifting up as I wiggled myself out from underneath him. I wrapped the sheet around my body, leaning halfway off the bed to reach for my bag that was discarded by the wall when we entered the room. I opened it with one hand, reaching for my phone, the lightness of the screen against the darkness of the room causing me to squint. I didn't recognize the number, but the area code was Forks.

"Hello?" I asked, leaning back up on the bed. Edward laid next to me, his arm reaching out to touch my naked lower back that had escaped from the sheet.

"Bella?" A voice came to life.

"Who is this?"

"It's Jacob … Jacob Black," He responded as I looked to the clock on the bedside table, it nearing twelve in the morning.

"What do you want, Jacob?" I asked as Edward sat up at the sound of the name.

"Look, I'm sorry about the other night, I was wasted, and I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. You were right to do what you did," His voice was somber and genuine, but I found his timing of an apology more than infuriating.

"Is that why you decided to call me in the middle of the night?" My voice was clipped as Jacob cleared his throat.

"No," He paused, "Are you home?"

"No, I'm not."

"Listen, Charlie made a scene at the liquor store and took a few bottles without paying," He said as I groaned, pressing my forehead into my palm. "I also got a noise complaint from his neighbors. I'm holding off on sending someone out because I wanted to give you a heads up, but the neighbors called twice before I was able to reach you."

"I'm an hour away, can you give me time to get there?" I asked.

"I can, but if there's another complaint, I'm gonna have no choice but to send one of my guys to the house."

"Okay, I understand. I'm leaving now," I hung up the phone, trying to bite back a cry.

Even with things looking up, Charlie found a way to bring them to screeching halt. Frustrated at my father and the shortness of our trip, I looked back to Edward apologetically, but, he was already on his feet, buttoning his pants.

* * *

AN: Thank you to those who continue to favorite, follow and review. I am forever indebted to you wonderful humans.

Obstacles has been nominated for a Twific award for **favorite undiscovered gem!** To those who nominated Obstacles, thank you so much. Your love for this story makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I hope I can continue to keep you emotionally attached with every chapter.

Go to my profile page to find the Twific link so you can vote! Voting closes on 2/17! You don't need an account or anything, it's very easy! And there are so many other great people nominated like my Beta, Fran! Who literally deserves all of the votes for being such a badass! Thank you Fran!

I also realized the link to my facebook page did not attach in the last chapter. To get the Obstacles playlist, add me on facebook and find that link on my profile page!

Until next time,

\- ii


	15. Rootless

_Chapter Song - Rootless Tree (Live at Fingerprints: Warts and All) by Damien Rice_

 _"What I want from this is learn to let go,  
No not of you, of all that's been told.  
But killers reinvent and believe.  
And this leans on me just like a rootless,  
So fuck you and all we've been through  
I said leave it, it's nothing to you.  
And if you hate me, then hate me so good  
That you can let me out, let me out, let me out  
Of this hell when you're around."_

* * *

 _This is Charlie. Leave one._

" _Shit_ ," I cursed, throwing my phone into the passenger seat of Edward's car, pressing my foot harder on the gas pedal. My nerves felt like static, all over and consuming me by the second. It was abundantly clear that Charlie was ignoring me, my texts unanswered and my calls ringing before going to voicemail. Jake's call had made the drive back into town unbearable as I tried my hardest to not jump to conclusions. Unfortunately, that didn't stop the millions of scenarios that ran through my head, each worse than the last. I found it difficult to focus, my fingers tightening on the steering wheel as I sped down to the edge of Forks and back towards home. After arriving at Masen's, Edward offered to take me to the house himself, but I didn't know what state I would find Charlie in. Because of this, I asked Edward to stay behind. He voiced his concern, uneasy to let me go but agreed and provided me access to his car with the promise I would come back tonight after I had checked on Charlie.

As I neared the house, I turned my wheel into the driveway and shifted into park. Clutching the keys in my hand, I stepped out and took in the structure of my childhood home. The shades were drawn but soft orange light seeped through the drapes and made the house seem warm. I took it a step at a time up the porch, hesitating at the knob as I seized it in my palm, turning it slowly. The warmth of the furnace hit me immediately, my eyes adjusting to the new light as I noticed something large obstructing the path to the living room. It was reminiscent of just a few weeks ago when Charlie was drunk, tearing through the house to find whatever it was that he was looking for.

I was met with the sound of crunching glass under my feet indicating that the doors to the cabinet that had sat just beside the front door were shattered. As I gingerly stepped over the blockade, envelopes were scattered and torn across the floor, leading a trail into the living room as I followed.

Charlie was sitting at the brick hearth of the fireplace, swaying calmly to an unheard beat as the tip of a whiskey bottle rested between his pointer and middle finger, his sight lingering onto the ground as his long, peppered hair dangled across his glassy eyes. He didn't hear me at first, mumbling under his breath until he brought the bottle up to his lips, liquid falling out of the corner of his mouth. He didn't wipe it, allowing it to drip from his chin to the hardwood floor. I moved closer, past the doorway of the foyer and living room as I noticed books scattered across the floor from a shelf that had been dismantled from the wall. I pushed one with the tip of my foot, sending it across the wood just as his chin tilted upwards, his eyes meeting mine.

"The prodigal daughter returns," His smile was forced as he stood from the hearth, stumbling forwards and catching himself on the corner of the couch, clutching onto the bottle in his hand for dear life. Watching him unravel was creating a divide within me, one that made me hesitate on accusing him of self-sabotaging all the work I had put in to help. But I found myself not able to find the words needed to start an argument. I didn't even know where to begin.

At my silence, Charlie's dark eyes swiveled back to me as he sat on the arm of his chair, his smile thinned and unnatural. "Did you guys have fun doing whatever it was you were doing?"

"Charlie –"

"You know, we haven't really talked about your relationship with my sponsor," Charlie pointed the bottle of whiskey towards me, nodding his head slowly. "I mean, I know I'm at fault, I don't like to talk about it. But did you know he's an alcoholic? I mean, of course, you did, he's a sponsor. Are you trying to change him too?"

"You know he is clean."

Charlie snorted, taking another drink. "Only a matter of time."

"I'm not here to talk about Edward."

"Why _are_ you here?" His voice was clipped, his eyes crossing at me.

"You know the cops almost showed up?" I ignored his question, crossing my arms over my chest. He snorted, leaning back into the chair as he took another drink. I felt a lump in my throat, making it difficult to swallow as I tried to bite down the annoyance that swelled inside.

"Who gives a shit?"

" _Who gives a shit?_ " I repeated, astonished. " _You_ should give a shit. You just got a job! What are they going to think when their new employee just robbed the liquor store?" I felt the anger billowing as Charlie shrugged, the smug smile making me feel sick. Everything we had worked on, all the time spent together in AA. Even if he didn't put down the bottle, it would all be for nothing now.

"Not my problem," He said shortly. "The store was trying to sell me cheap whiskey for an arm and a leg."

"You don't just steal it! It's insane that I even have to have this conversation with you!"

"Then don't!" He shouted, standing and stepping towards me. "I don't need you to tell me what's right from wrong, I don't need you to breathe down my back and guilt me out of drinking, and I don't need you to help me get a job! I don't need _anything_ from you."

His voice was slurred but acidic, an intent behind every single word. Not even the amount of alcohol in his system could cloud the truth of what he said. For a moment, I wondered what I was still doing here trying to help him when all he did was come right behind me and ruin all the progress we had made.

"How the hell are you going to pay your mortgage?" I asked as Charlie began to laugh, settling down into the seat of the chair. His amusement infuriated me, and as he continued to watch me break under the pressure of my anger, he _laughed_.

"If they fire me, I've got time to find another job. _You_ made sure of that," He pointed the bottle at me once again as I felt an uneasiness inside of my chest.

"What do you mean?" I asked under my breath.

"Five grand will cover a few months, right?" His words were ice, freezing me in my spot at the mention of the loan. Charlie watched from the chair, his eyes knowing as he held the bottle close to his chest.

 _Shit._

"What are you talking about?" My voice caught in my throat, betraying me.

"Don't do that, Bella. Don't act naïve," He accused, "I have to admit, you did a good job hiding your tracks. But I called them earlier, to see if I could negotiate an additional extension until my first paycheck. How fucking happy that clerk was to tell me I was caught up – _plus some!_ I wouldn't have known if I hadn't gotten this job, so really, that was your mistake," He slurred. "Changed all of my information to yours to disguise what you were doing. You went behind my back, Bella."

"I didn't have a choice."

"You _had_ a choice."

"They would have taken the –"

"I don't care!" His voice thundered, silencing me. "I don't think I could have made it clearer to you, I didn't need your fucking money."

"So, you find out and you what? Destroy the house?" I asked, unfolding my arms to signify the mess he had made.

"I was trying to find anything to tie you back to the loan, since they wouldn't tell me who paid. I figured you had something in writing. I even called Jenks. But that doesn't matter because I knew it was you."

"If it really means that much to you, if you are really that upset because I did what I needed to do to help you, then you can pay me back."

"It's not about that, and you know it!" He exploded. "You ignored everything I said!"

"What was I supposed to do Charlie? I could barely get you to put down the bottle to find a job!"

"But, I did it!"

"I didn't think you would!"

"Fucking Christ!" He growled, blowing past me and towards the front.

"Where are you going?" I screamed after him just as he pulled the front door open, swinging it so that it ricocheted off the side, leaving a prominent crack in the drywall. He stomped down the porch just as I hit the edge of the top step, taking once last mouthful of his whiskey before throwing the empty bottle onto the splintered pavement, the sound of glass breaking reverberating around us.

"It wasn't your problem to deal with, Bella!" He accused as I watched him stop and turn towards me. We faced each other, bodies rigid with tension and resentment as a light sheen of rain fell around us. "You should have stayed the fuck out of it!"

"You would have been put out on the streets. I was just trying to help."

"I didn't ask for any of this!" He shouted, a finger pointed towards me in accusation.

"You think I asked for this? You think that I _planned_ to take care of you?"

"I didn't ask you to do that!"

"You didn't have to! You're an alcoholic who was on the verge of losing his home because you can't keep a fucking job to pay your bills!"

"Shut up, Bella."

"I knew you didn't care how you lived or what happened to you, but do you honestly think I could have left you the way you were after what happened to Mom?" I shouted, clutching my chest.

"Don't bring her—"

"She has _everything_ to do with this! She died from a drug overdose! And then I come here to see how you are living, to see how you lived before I showed up. You think I didn't notice the track marks on your arm? I've known for a while," I finished as Charlie's eyes whipped up to mine, his fists clenching as his jaw went tight. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes glassing over as he turned around, cursing.

"You don't know anything," He spun on his heels, making his way towards me "You don't get to come here to my house and tell me how I should live, what I should do or shit on me for the things I've done before," He challenged, "This is my home. _Not yours_."

"Yes, you've made that clear, Charlie. This is your house, and I have no part in it whatsoever. Forget the fucking fact that I lived here as a child and had to put up with my alcoholic parents!"

"So, you had a bad childhood, join the fucking club. You want a goddamn medal? You act like you're the only one who has been through shit, Bella!"

"Don't you dare minimalize what I went through!" I screamed, our bodies close enough for me to push him. He stumbled backward, grabbing his foot at the edge of the pavement, leveling himself. I took a step closer as he watched me with red cheeks and eyes enraged – but I rivaled it. "I was a kid! _A kid_. And taking care of you!" I paused, feeling the tears welling up. "Taking care of both of you."

"Seven years old; I got myself up every morning and made my own breakfast, packed my own lunch and walked to school, _by myself_ , because both of my parents were too drunk to drive me." I paused, allowing my words to sink in as he looked down and away, ashamed.

"I was the one who dragged your ass in from the front porch so you wouldn't freeze to death … I was the one who shoved my fingers down Mom's throat so she wouldn't overdose!" The tears were stinging, rolling over my cheeks as Charlie stayed silent, easing himself down on the pavement. "And I was here, staying up all night to make sure you didn't roll over and suffocate on your own vomit! Do you think I ever got a thank you? _Not one_. Not from Mom." I roughly wiped my tears with the sleeve of my sweater, looking down at him. "And never from you, you were too fucking loaded."

It went quiet, the tapping of rain against the ground as our heavy breath left in mists, evaporating into the air as the night began to grow bitterly cold. I could feel my skin pebbling, my teeth chattering under my chapped lips as Charlie sat on the ground, head hanging low.

"You're just a junkie and a drunk."

"Enough," He hissed, sniffling.

"I found her, you know?" I began, watching his body run rigid. "Just like old times, right? Walking in on a parent passed out on the floor, except this time nothing I did was enough. No matter how far I stuck my fingers down her throat, she was gone."

"Please," He shuddered, the word choking on a breath.

I turned, clutching my palm to my forehead as I tried to keep myself focused as Charlie cried behind me. His quiet sobs meant nothing, the way he rocked to soothe whatever pain he harbored inside only disgusted me. The tears were hot against my cheek, my fingers numb from the cold as I spun back to him, watching as he deteriorated on the pavement.

"Keep the five thousand, have them cut you a check of what was overpaid, _I don't care_. I'm done. You finally got what you've always wanted," I quieted, watching as his dark eyes trailed up to mine, filled to the brim with wetness as his cheeks grew pink from the biting wind. " _Nobody_."

I backed away, turning against the crunching of glass as I made my way to the car, fighting the tears that had already threatened their way out.

xx

I fumbled out of the car, taking in a wheezing breath as the drop in the temperature stung at my lungs. Masen's was dark, but the windows in the loft above it were lit with a warmth I craved more than ever. My hands were shaking, clutching the keys as I crossed the street and to the door adjacent to the bar. I knocked, despite having the keys, and waited for an answer that never came. I rested my forehead against the wood, stifling a sob as I reached the knob, unlocking and making my way to the edge of the steps.

As I climbed, I wiped at my checks at an attempt to collect myself, quieting the cries that escaped without remorse, feeling stripped of any strength I had left. There were so many things, too many memories that I felt as if I were reliving. The weighed me down, made it hard to breath. I tried to ignore them as I hit the top stair, the quietness of the loft unnerving me as my eyes scanned across the empty living room and kitchen before landing on the bed, Edward asleep above the covers. I kicked off my ballet shoes, shrugging my jacket off my shoulders and dropping it to the floor as I made my way to him, easing one knee to the edge of the mattress, careful not to startle him awake. I climbed in completely, my hand reaching out to his arm as I pushed myself next to him, his eyes then blinking open.

"Bella?" His voice was hoarse, cracked from sleep. I didn't say anything, smoothing an arm over his chest as I curled into his side. He tried to look at my face, but I hid it in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent to help ease the pain. "Bella, what happened?"

He tried to move me, but I was clutched so tightly, my fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. I still felt it all, felt the pressure and the pain of what had just transpired between Charlie and I and I wanted it to be gone. I didn't want to feel it anymore; I was so tired of feeling it. I would do anything not to. So, I pulled away from him, only for a moment until I crashed my lips to his, swallowing his questions as I let his warmth fill me. He was hesitant, but he gave into me, his lips soft and kind. His fingers tangled into my hair as my hands rubbed across his chest, my fingers flexing to grab the fabric, pulling away to peel it from his body.

I still felt the pain. And I needed it gone.

I was frantic, lifting my body to mount his, my hips crashing into his as my dress lifted around my waist, the feeling spectacular. Edward moaned, my fingers scrapping across his scalp as he kissed along my throat, nipping and biting as I reached down, grabbing the hem of my dress and pulling it over my head. I finally felt him and his warmth easing my pain. It was still there, but so was he and I was so grateful.

"Bella," Edward breathed, pulling away from my neck.

"Don't stop," I moaned, reaching down between us to unbutton his pants.

"Hey, slow down," He said as I shook my head, his hands grabbing my wrists to hold them still. "You're shaking."

"Please," I begged. "I need you."

"I'm here, I'm right here," He whispered as I shook my head, the pain breaching its way through once again. "Bella?"

"I can't," I cried, shaking my head. " _I can't breathe_."

Once the first tear fell, it created an unbroken stream I couldn't control. I was heaving, my heart hammering as Edward brought me to him and cradled me to his chest. Blood pounded in my ears, nothing but the sounds of my cries echoing as I felt every part of me deteriorating into nothingness. I felt movement, Edward laying us down as he kept me close, one arm around my waist as another held the back of my head. He was talking, whispering, but I couldn't make out the words over the deep, staggering breaths I took with each inhale. I clung to him, trying to absorb the comfort he provided but it wasn't enough to keep the ache at bay. Everything felt as if it were melting around me; the memories I resurfaced with Charlie playing in my mind on a loop until I remembered finding my mom on the floor of her bedroom, the near empty bottle of pills in her hand. I pushed myself farther into Edward, pleading to myself to _just stop_. Edward tightened his grip, kissing the top of my head as he covered me with his warmth. The more time I spent in his arms, the more it willed me to relax. My body and mind were tiring, the memories eventually fading and at some point, the tears stopped as my breathing regulated.

Untucking myself from his chest, we laid face to face, the light across the room revealing his pained expression. One arm released from my waist, his fingers brushing the strands of hair that were matted on my cheek from tears.

"What can I do?" He breathed as I closed my eyes, whimpering.

"I _hate_ him," I wept, the words catching in my throat as Edward placed a loving kiss to my forehead, attempting to soothe me.

"I try to forget what I went through with him, with both of them. The things he said made me remember what I had to live through years ago and I _hate_ him for making me think of it." I whispered as my body began to shake, a reaction to the anxiety attack I had just suffered. "I don't know what to do, he doesn't want me and I don't think I can help him anymore," I heaved, the tears still evident as Edward caught them before they fell, his face contorting in a sadness I knew he felt for me. He was powerless, no words or actions to make the pain of my past go away.

"I don't know if there is anything you should do," He finally said as I looked up to him. "Charlie is too prideful. It was hard for him to come to AA the first time; it meant that he was vulnerable. My father was like that too. Didn't want help, wanted to fix everything himself in any way he could. Until he couldn't."

"I hate how he makes me feel, I hate who he was when I was a kid, and I hate who he is now," I pronounced, Edward staring directly at me.

"It's okay," He assured me with a nod, "You can hate him."

"I told him I knew about the heroin," I said as he squeezed me tighter. "I threw it in his face and I felt like shit for it afterwards. And that's all I feel," I paused, looking at him. "I can't feel anything but that. Nothing but emptiness and pain and I hate it. I need it to go away," I cried, for what felt like the thousandth time as I brushed at my cheeks. Edward grabbed me, pulling me onto his waist as I straddled him, my arms around his neck as I buried my face into his hair, feeling the intensity of his hold trying to calm me. His body against mine had created friction that I reveled in, trying to soak in every moment of it as I lowered my face, my lips reaching his as I moved off his hips, laying my back against the bed as I encouraged him to follow.

"Bella," Edward warned as I began tugging at my bra straps. "Will you stop trying to take your clothes off?"

"I need you," I pleaded, pressing a kiss to his chin. " _Please_. I need to forget. Make me forget it."

"I'm right here; I'm not going anywhere."

"I feel empty. I need to feel you. I need to feel _something_ ," I begged once again, finding myself in the same position as I did last night. "Please, Edward."

He was conflicted, but I knew what I wanted. I wanted him; I needed him. I craved every bit of him because he made me feel alive. He made me feel like there was nothing I needed to worry about except for being with him. And now, with the memories playing in my head, I longed for him. I encouraged him, kissing his lips to coax him, reaching my hand down to grip his evident arousal through his jeans.

"Fuck," He groaned, shaking his head.

"Please."

"I can't, Bella," His breathing hitched, and I felt a searing pain in my chest; his rejection evident as I tried to move. He held me still, capturing me within his arms as he pressed his lips against mine. "Please don't," He begged, keeping me still. "I _want_ to. But I can't, not like this. You are exhausted, I can see it. Let me just hold you."

"I want to feel you," I sniffled. Edward splayed his long fingers against my back, pushing our chests flush against each other. He maneuvered us up to grab the sheets, pulling them around us and cocooning us in a warmth that was blissful. He pushed us back together, his arms protectively around me as he coaxed me to relax with him, his hooded eyes searching mine. I hadn't realized how tired I was until I felt it seeping into my bones.

"Feel me, I'm right here" He promised. "I won't leave you."

* * *

 _AN: Phew, how are we doing?_

 _Thanks to everyone who has favorited, followed and reviewed. I am so in love with you._

 _Thanks to my beta, Fran. She is seriously the best around._

 _The scene between Charlie and Bella was heavily inspired by a scene between Frank and Fiona Gallagher from the TV Show, Shameless. Charlie is based somewhat on Frank, however, Bella is nothing like Fiona's character._

 _We knew this was going to happen eventually, hopefully it gives you a bit more of an insight of what Bella went through as a child._

 _Please let me know what you think and know that I will love you every bit for it!_

 _Until next time..._

 _\- ii_


	16. Family

_Chapter Song - Laser Beam by Low_

 _"I don't need a laser beam,_  
 _I don't need the time,_  
 _Leave me in the car tonight._  
 _Rest your drunk mind,_  
 _I need your grace, alone."_

* * *

Morning quietly fell over Forks as I watched the sun rise from beyond the trees. Curled up with my legs tucked near my chest, I sat on the sill of the window, feeling the shining rays warm my skin. A cup of coffee rested on my knee, still steaming as dewdrops ran down the glass of the windows. I heard shuffling behind me, my chin turning to rest on my shoulder as I watched Edward turn in his sleep, his face calm despite the turmoil from the night before.

Everything that transpired last night plagued me to the point of insomnia. And despite falling asleep, I found myself awake not long after. I laid in bed for several hours before giving up just as morning crept in; my mind racing to the point of exhaustion but not able to turn itself off to find peace. Charlie's words played like an echo in my head, causing a tightness from the anger I was constantly forced to relive.

My saving grace was Edward. And he didn't deserve what I tried to do. Had he been any lesser of a man, he would have caved into me last night, allowed me the satisfaction to feel something other than pain, even at the expense of using him.

 _He doesn't deserve that._

I looked away from the bed and back out the window, distracting myself from the dark thoughts of the person I had become hours before. A moment of weakness that avalanched into a frantic attempt to shield my pain like I always did. I knew I was wrong. I had realized it was an automatic response with Charlie, the negatives of being around him. I allowed him to create another person inside of me I didn't like. I hated him for it. But despite my revelation of what my father caused inside of me, I knew I was the one at fault. I allowed him to burrow under my skin and get to me. Last night was no different.

It was times like this, where I reflected on how much of a product I was of my parents. Charlie, someone who acts before thinking and Renee, someone who takes chances and risks despite the consequences, even at the cost of her own life. In the last few years, I tried so hard to think rationally, to weigh my options, to avoid conflict, unlike my parents, that I realized it was only a front of who I truly was. I could try and cover it as much as I could, but the signs were always there. Truth was, I wasn't much different than them.

"Bella?"

I looked back to Edward who was tugging on his hair, pushing it out of his face as his palms rubbed into his eyes. I slid off the windowsill and moved across the room as he watched patiently as I climbed onto the end of the bed and tucked my legs underneath me.

"I made coffee," I said as I offered him the mug. The corner of his lips turned upwards as he grabbed the cup, taking a sip almost immediately.

"None for you?" He asked as I shrugged.

"That was my third cup," I answered. There was a moment of silence as Edward stared, trying to get a read on how I was holding myself up. When I tore myself from his gaze, he extended his arm to his side, setting the cup on the bedside table. When he turned, I was looking again, watching as he scooted himself, closing the gap between us. One hand reached forward, resting against my bare knee.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked as I spared a tight smile, his face softening at my silent answer. I moved from my spot, sliding down next to him as we settled face to face. His arm wrapped around me, my hand resting at the nape of his neck as his green eyes watched, questions brewing that he hesitated to speak. I rested my cheek on his chest as his chin laid on top of my head. I felt his warmth, reveling in it. "We can stay here all day," He whispered, the idea tempting. "I can call Esme; tell her something came up and we can't make it."

I pulled away, my brows knitting until I remembered the invitation to his aunt and uncles for dinner. My lips turned into a frown as I realized everything that had transpired between Charlie last night had made me forgetful.

"We can still go," I told him, my voice betraying me. Edward looked dubious; his eyes narrowing at me.

"Do you think …"

"Really," I interrupted, halting his words. "It would help me take my mind off things. Plus, Alice would probably kill us."

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked softly, his gaze observant and unprejudiced, not that I deserved it.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, looking at the sheets bunched below us.

"For what?"

"Don't," I pleaded, shaking my head. "You know what I'm apologizing for."

I felt him move, his body only an inch apart but he didn't force me to look at him, despite his eyes that stayed attached to me. I felt a sense of shame, my pride trying to force me out of the conversation. Edward let out a long breath, his fingertips grazing my cheek. "You were upset. I don't blame you for your intentions; I get it."

"It doesn't matter."

"I can think of worse things than you trying to use me as a distraction," He said, an edge to his tone as I glared up at him. "When I started AA, sex was one of the things I increased so I wouldn't drink," He shrugged his shoulders, pushing a strand of hair out of my face. "I'm not saying that's the best option, but it's okay to replace the bad things about us with what we enjoy. It helps to take our mind off the shit we've got going on in our lives."

"Can't you just tell me what I did was wrong?" I began, moving away from him as I sat up, looking down.

"Would that make you feel better?"

"I don't know," I pushed my palms into my face, rubbing away the exhaustion. I felt the bed shift as warm hands pressed against my arms, pulling them away from my face and forcing me to open my eyes. His hair had more copper in the morning light, the green in his eyes standing out against his pale skin as his lips curved into a crooked smile that told me there was no anger held against me. "I don't like who I was last night."

"It's okay to be vulnerable, Bella. I don't know why you can't grasp that," He said, bringing my hand up to hold against his cheek. He turned, eyes still on me, as he kissed my palm. "There is no resentment here, I promise." He said as I swallowed hard, nodding my head as I tried to accept his empathy.

"Can I stay here? For a little while?"

Edward smiled, nodding his head as he leaned in, placing a soft kiss to my lips. "You know my answer; you don't have to ask."

I felt his warmth as he pulled me into him, the two of us spending the rest of our morning in bed. We eventually ventured out of the loft and picked up breakfast just before stopping into Masen's so Edward could catch up on bookkeeping. Emmett had opened, the three of us sitting at the bar drinking coffee. Edward tended to the administrative side of the business despite Emmett continuously annoying him. The two bickered, we laughed and eventually I felt my insomnia kick in. I felt delusional; my eyes heavy enough that I had followed Edward into the back office, curling up on his leather couch and fell asleep. When Edward woke me only an hour later, he tried to convince me to stay. We went back and forth until he caved, and we went back upstairs to get ready. I was fortunate enough to have clothes left over from the previous times spent here. This avoided a trip back to Charlie's I knew I wasn't ready for.

I felt my nerves kick in as we drove, my stomach tightening as I fidgeted with the hem of my dress. My lack of sleep steered my anxiety into overdrive as I feared the worst about what could happen when I encountered his family. I had never met a boy's parents before. And even if they weren't his actual parents, he certainly talked about them as if they were. My sudden need to feel accepted by them, despite already knowing Carlisle, made me more apprehensive than ever.

As he pulled into a hidden drive, a home appeared amid the trees. It was beautiful; the woods surrounding it making it almost haunting, even as we got closer. It was double the size of Charlie's house, large windows replacing walls to allow as much sun in as possible. I felt a lump in the back of my throat but had suddenly felt Edward's hand on mine as I turned to look at him. He was relaxed, his auburn hair tousled, pairing well with his dark sweater. His touch calmed me, his presence easing me into relaxation that immediately opened the door, ready to take on what was to come next.

"I told them not to make a big deal," Edward began as he met me on the other side of the car, opening the door fully for me. "But knowing my aunt, she didn't listen."

"Should I be scared?" I teased, though the anxiety was still present. Edward smirked, pressing a kiss to my cheek as he escorted me to the stairs that led to the front door.

"Absolutely."

The door swung open before we even had a chance to knock, a woman in a purple dress standing in the doorway smiled brightly between the two of us. "Edward!" She exclaimed, her smile infectious as her caramel hair flowed down the side of her shoulder in big waves. Esme's arms outstretched to bring her nephew in, to which he willingly submitted. She hugged him tightly, making sure to take in every second as her eyes closed shut, her smile never fading. Edward wrapped his arms around her, hugging her with just as much intensity making me feel as if I was intruding on such a tender moment; one that made me miss my own mother's hugs. When Esme pulled away, she smoothed out the front of Edward's shirt where she had wrinkled it, her palm resting against his cheek. Edward turned and Esme's gaze followed to where I stood a few feet away, my own palms clasped awkwardly at my front.

"Hello, Bella," Her warmth radiated as she glided toward me, her hands resting on my shoulders. I spared a glance to Edward who was watching from the corner. "It's nice to meet you," She tucked one of my wavy tendrils behind my ear, her motherly ambiance creating a pit in my stomach. "I hope you're hungry."

"I am," I nodded as we stepped inside, the modern house filled with light from the large window panels, showing off the forest that nearly hid the home. There were paintings on the walls, a grand piano in the corner just next to a fireplace that was surrounded by shelves filled with a myriad of books. Carlisle descended the stairs, beaming when he saw Edward. The two embraced, and when they pulled away, I saw the pride in Carlisle's eyes as he patted his back, making his way to my side, pulling me into a hug.

"Thank you for inviting me," I said meekly, feeling slightly out of place.

"Bella, you are always welcomed. How is Charlie doing?" Carlisle asked as Edward spared me a glance. I ignored him, forcing a smile as I shrugged.

"Still drinking," I said sarcastically as Carlisle rolled his eyes.

"Some things never change. Come, make yourself comfortable," He said as Edward came to my side, squeezing my hand as I smiled, following Carlisle and Esme as they toured the house. I had never seen such a beautiful home, especially in Forks, and it made me wonder how I had never noticed it before. When we made our way into the kitchen, Alice stood at the island tossing a salad together with Jasper by her side. Her eyes lit up when she saw me, springing into my direction as she immediately pulled me into a hug.

"I'm so glad you're here, Bella! I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to say goodbye last night," She said, ushering me further into the kitchen.

"It's okay, Alice, I'm glad to be here," I said, looking back to Edward who was in the middle of a conversation with Carlisle. "Hey, Jazz," I smiled at Jasper who nodded in my direction. "Off bar duty tonight?" He raised his beer in acknowledgment.

"For once."

"Don't act like you don't love that bar as much as Edward does, it's sick, really," Emmett's boisterous voice made itself known as he wrapped an arm around Jasper's shoulder.

"It's a job," Jasper retorted, peeling Emmett's arm from around him. "I don't see you offering me one."

"Do you actually want a job at the firm? I mean, _I_ don't even like it."

"Really?" Alice's eyes lit up with excitement, "Could you get him a job? It would be nice to have him home during the day."

"Sure," Emmett shrugged. "He has to really want it, though."

" _No_ ," Jasper said flatly between the two of them. "Do I look like a pencil pusher to you?"

"Stop trying to steal my employees, Emmett," Edward warned as he came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I make six figures at the firm," Emmett retorted.

"Yet, you still open up for Masen's," Jasper challenged.

"That's because I lost a bet to this prick," Emmett gestured to Edward who grinned behind me, my head tilting up to him curiously.

"We placed bets on the Super Bowl. If he lost, he had to pick up a few shifts during the week for half a year at Masen's. If I lost, I had to sell the bar," He shrugged, looking back to Emmett with a gleam in his eye. "I won, fair and square."

"You definitely cheated," Emmett snorted, shaking his head. "I don't know how, but you did."

"Keep telling yourself that," Edward nodded, pressing a kiss to my cheek just as I caught Esme's gaze as she whispered into Carlisle's ear, a smile playing on her lips. Heels on the marble floor caught all of our attention, as Rosalie walked in with a wine glass in her hand surveying the room, her eyes falling immediately on Edward and me.

"Rosalie," Edward said, acknowledging her. She spared a tight smile, looking between us before breezing on by into the dining room.

"Don't worry about it," Emmett soothed as I nodded, looking up to Edward who smiled.

"Well, dinner should be ready soon," Esme said, "Boys, do you want to take the plates, salad, and rolls out while I get the lasagna?" She asked as all three of them grabbed everything, heading into the dining area, as Alice and I walked behind them.

We found our places, Edward and I sitting next to each other as Alice placed herself on the other side of me. Directly across was Rosalie who avoided eye contact and Esme and Carlisle at each end of the table. Carlisle said a small prayer, something I was unfamiliar with just before we started to eat. At first, the conversation was light, a few discussions on jobs and family as we each ate our food. From time to time, I felt Edward's hand on me. We exchanged glances, stealing a few smiles as Emmett rattled off about his firm.

"So, Bella," Esme paused, passing a bowl to Alice. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm sort of in-between jobs right now," I said.

"Charlie told me you went to school for writing, is that true?" Carlisle asked.

"Yes," I hesitated, briefly wondering why Charlie had divulged that information. He had never seemed to care about my personal life, including my schooling. "I majored in writing and minored in publishing."

"I'm getting her in touch with Leah in Seattle," Alice chirped. "I think she'd be perfect, at least to intern in order to get her feet wet."

Edward turned to me, surprised. I shrugged, sparing him a smile as I realized the events with Charlie had made Alice's kind gesture seem insignificant. I could see the corner of his lips turn, a glimmer of hope that there could be some kind of future together for us flashing in his eyes. I wasn't naïve; I knew there would have to be a discussion between us about what would become of our relationship if I were to go back to Phoenix. It was always there, lingering in the back of our minds. It had been mentioned in passing, but no serious conversation had come up from it. The prospect of moving north was both welcoming and unnerving, especially after last night.

"Publishing seems to have skyrocketed in Seattle," Carlisle added. "Even if Leah cannot help, there are plenty of opportunities."

"I'm grateful for Alice's connections, I'm just not sure what I want to do," I said.

"But you don't actually live here, right?" Rosalie's harsh tone rang above the others, both Edward and I looking to her instantly.

"Bella is from Phoenix," Edward said pointedly.

"That's what I am saying – it's a big move. No publishing jobs in Arizona?"

"Rose," Emmett countered.

"What? I'm just asking since we're all prodding into her life. I'm sure she has family down there, that's probably a hard decision to make," She scoffed, flipping her blonde hair behind her shoulder. The tone of her voice was evident; she didn't even try to hide the fact she was scrutinizing me. Edward was clutching the fork in his hand, his food untouched as he glared across the table.

"I have my stepdad and grandmother back home, but since my mom died a few months ago, I'm not sure what I'm going to do," I said simply as I watched her features soften. She still had an edge, but she noticeably lowered her shoulders, muttering an apology under her breath. I shrugged her off, looking back to Esme who watched me with sad eyes and a smile to match. "I'm just going with the flow right now, which is something I'm not used to," I forced out a laugh, reaching my hand under the table to set on top of Edward's knee. He relaxed, his head turning to meet mine. "It's not ideal, but I don't think I have a choice."

"Seattle is calling you; I just know it!" Alice broke the silence, her positivity exuberating through the room. I was thankful for her, as her seamless amount of joy shifted the awkwardness of the room into a normal conversation, directing the spotlight off me.

"Maybe Edward can finally sell that bar and go back to UW to finish his Psychology major now that he has a reason to go back to Seattle," Emmett suggested just as he shoved a mouthful of potatoes into his mouth.

"I'm not selling the bar," Edward deadpanned.

"I didn't know you went to school for Psychology," I turned, curious.

"I didn't finish," He shrugged.

"You only have a few more years," Esme said, hopeful. "Edward wanted to be a Psychologist for at-risk youth. I think he'd be perfect at it." She smiled as Rosalie stifled a laugh across the table, only barely noticeable amongst the chatter. My head snapped in her direction as I watched her hide her smile behind her napkin as she pressed it to her lips.

"I might go back, _might_ ," He said in Esme's direction. "But that doesn't mean I have to sell the bar."

"That place is a shit hole; sell it for what it is worth. Been telling you that for years." Emmett countered as Edward shook his head.

"I think it has character," Alice said, looking to Jasper who rolled his eyes.

"Nah, that's just the black mold from the walls screwing with your head," Emmett refuted as Edward huffed.

"Screw you, Emmett, you know I had that checked."

"Boys!" Esme warned as they both laughed under their breath, Carlisle shaking his head at the end of the table. Their family banter was so lighthearted that my surroundings felt foreign. I realized I couldn't remember the last time I had dinner at the table with my family. Even with Mom and Phil, we hadn't had a proper meal together since I was in high school. I didn't grasp how much I missed it until that moment. Having a genuine conversation with those you loved, even as foul-mouthed as the Cullen boys were, was something I wish I still had. I suddenly felt out of place, watching as the conversation continued about their lives, both now and in the past. I had caught Esme and Carlisle on several occasions staring at each other, the pride they had for their children clear as day. I remembered that same look from Mom, whenever something momentous happened in my life. I never saw that look from Charlie.

Throughout the conversation, Edward and I stole a few glances. It was hard for me to imagine a time where he was at a standstill with this very same family. He had told me before the struggles they overcame, especially during his addiction. But the way Esme looked at him now, it was as if he could do no wrong. It was clear her love for him rivaled any past indiscretions. My hand rested on his knee, squeezing when I felt the need to let him know how thankful I was that he brought me here despite the state my mind was in. Even as distant as I felt from a wholesome family, being here made me realize what I had been missing. At one point, Edward reached over, pressing a kiss to the side of my head as a conversation between Emmett and Alice held the attention of others, all except Rosalie.

I could feel her stare, my head turning slightly to see her watching us. Her chair slid back when she caught my gaze as she picked up her wine glass, her eyes glaring at Edward.

"I need more wine," She announced stiffly, turning from the table to make her way into the kitchen. I squeezed Edward's knee one last time, grabbing my wine glass and following her trail.

Rosalie was at the kitchen counter, grabbing the opened bottle of wine before tipping it over her glass, it bleeding red. The swinging door cued my arrival, her head perking, her eyes hardening as I reached the other side of the island in the middle of the room. She didn't break the gaze as she took a sip of her drink, holding it to her lips as the silence became deafening. After a moment, she moved her arm away, a smile appearing behind the glass.

"Did you come to spend time with me?" Sarcasm was thick in her voice as she brushed a large, blonde curl to drape behind her back.

"I came for the wine," I answered immediately.

" _That_ I can help you with," She grabbed the bottle, tilting it in my direction as she filled my glass. "I'm sure you don't think very highly of me, what with Edward whispering in your ear."

"He's hasn't said anything to me about you," I said as her lips momentarily curled downward as if she were disappointed in that fact, and wanted more of a reason to hate him.

"I don't expect you to understand," She began, "Whatever you came to say to me, I've heard it before. From Alice, Emmett, Esme, and even Carlisle."

"I can make my own judgment, Rosalie. And the only thing I 've seen is how you've treated Edward," My tone was sharp, her eyes flickering to mine as she squared her shoulders.

"What has he told you about his past?" She interrupted, pulling the empty bottle of Merlot away.

"I don't see how that is any of your business," I said as she snorted in response.

"I'll take that as a no," She smiled, reaching for her glass before taking another sip. "I know what you're thinking, Bella. You think I'm a bitch and I get it. From an outside perspective, it may seem that way."

"An outside perspective?"

"Don't play coy with me. You followed me in here for a reason; you're defending your man. I respect you for it, but you don't know what Edward has done, what he did to my best friend," She warned, her blue eyes like ice.

"Edward doesn't claim to be a saint. He regrets what happened to Tanya."

"What _he_ did to Tonya. And do you know what that is?" She asked, a moment passing between us. She let out an empty chuckle, shaking her head before again sipping her wine. "Of course, you don't. Why would he tell you that?"

"It's not my business."

"It should be. Think what you want of me, I don't care. He has a dark history, one I'm all too well aware of because of my own past. He is atoning for his sins, and I get it, but in the meantime, he hasn't cleaned up the mess he made. If you knew the things he did, you wouldn't be here."

I felt the anger flexing inside of me, her disdain towards Edward and his past making it hard for me to stand still. I was unsure on how Edward was able to ignore her snide remarks and judgmental gaze without feeling the need to put her in her place. I assumed he had grown used to it, found a way not to allow it to burrow under his skin and fester. But I wasn't Edward, and I surely wasn't going to allow her to continue.

"Were you an addict, too, Rosalie?" I asked, her head immediately snapping in my direction, her eyes fixed on mine like a target. I had cracked her exterior, found her weakness and I knew that I hit a nerve.

"I'm not talking about me."

"But you have no problem talking about Edward." I paused as she stared at her reflection in the wine glass. "It's not fun having someone question your character, is it? You have a past, just like everyone else. Don't worry; I won't pry. I don't know everything that happened in Seattle, but I respect Edward enough to let him tell me on his own terms. That's being a decent human being. And Edward may not care what you say, but I do. He's doing his best, and you want to tear him down because of your own vendetta, but I _won't_ let you."

The silence returned, thicker than before. Her long, thin fingers gripped the goblet of her glass so firm; I was sure it would have broken at any moment. She had been so used to Edward ignoring her, taking her degrading comments in stride that I knew she didn't expect me to say anything. I wasn't sure if she was ever used to someone challenging her. The island created a barrier between us, one I was grateful for as her spitefulness was forming an aura around her, making her outside beauty turn ugly. Her eyes swiveled to mine, conceding but still threatening just as the door behind us swung open, Alice hesitating in the door as she witnessed the small standoff with an empty glass of wine in her hand.

"Everything okay?" She hedged cautiously, glancing between us. And just like that, the scowl on Rosalie's face disappeared, a smile replacing it as she nodded.

"Bella and I were just getting to know each other," Her voice was clipped, her forced smile inciting an eye roll from me as she breezed by Alice, exiting the kitchen.

"She'll warm up to you, I promise," She swore, but not even Alice's positivity could make me believe that. I spared her a smile as our night went on, dinner ending not long after my encounter with Rosalie who did her best to pretend I didn't exist. She and Emmett left shortly after, Carlisle taking Edward to his study as Alice and Jasper sat in the living room. I found myself in the kitchen with Esme who stood at the sink, cleaning up after dinner.

"Can I help?" I asked, grabbing a pristine china bowl before discarding the trash into the bin, handing it to her to wash out under the faucet. Her smile was warm as she made room for me, the two of us working silently together.

"Are you enjoying your time in Forks?" Esme asked as I turned to her, nodding slightly.

"For the most part," I said, hedging the answer. "You have a beautiful home; I don't ever remember seeing it when I was a kid."

"Carlisle had it built after his brother died, when we took Edward in. Our old home wasn't big enough for three growing children," She said, placing a few dishes into the washer. "I suppose that was after you moved to Phoenix. And I don't remember seeing you visit, but, to be fair, it was quite a shock to find out Charlie had a child."

"That seems to be the common theme around here. We didn't have the best relationship when I was growing up."

"I can understand that. And I appreciate what you are doing, Bella," Esme began as I looked at her, furrowing my brows. "Charlie is very lucky to have you in his life." She finished as I hesitated over the bin at the mention of my father, slowly discarding food before handing her the plate.

"I don't know if he feels the same way," I shrugged, clearing the last dish before setting it onto the counter.

"One day he will, even if it may not seem that way. I believe that you and I are not that different, just trying to help the ones we love who suffer from addiction," She rinsed the last plate, stacking it in the dishwasher before closing it with her hip, looking back to me. "I told Edward I wouldn't mention Charlie," She paused as I felt my body tense, the fight last night looming again over me. "He didn't tell me what happened, but, I can sense you are struggling. I struggled too with Edward, right in the thick of it. Perseverance is key. Patience even more so."

I felt my throat go dry as I nodded, folding my arms as I leaned against the counter. Esme's tone was not of pity, but of relatability. Still, the wounds of the night were struggling to heal, and I didn't know if they would. I didn't know if anything would get better, not only for Charlie but for our relationship. It seemed worse now than ever before, but what scared me more was my overwhelming sense to leave him, to throw in the towel and have him fend for himself just as he had been doing before I showed back up on his doorstep.

"They seem callous and uncaring; everything is a problem except a bottle. There was a time that Carlisle wanted to give up on Edward, but I stayed my course despite it being against my husband's wishes," She said as I looked at her in surprise. The way Carlisle was with Edward, it didn't seem like he would so easily lose hope. "I don't blame Carlisle for the way he felt; Edward put us through the wringer. And sometimes Carlisle can only see black and white; it comes with his occupation. But I trudged along, and in the end, it paid out. Carlisle regrets how he handled the situation, but overall, we are so proud of Edward. But it took a lot to get him there, and Charlie has been doing this for much longer. You have to keep trying, despite everything telling you not to."

Esme had moved in front of me, her fingers brushing back the tendrils of hair that hung from my face. It was very maternal, one that made the void of my mother much more prominent. I looked up at her, her smile matching the warmth of her hazel eyes. I felt a sense of jealousy over Alice, the luck she had to have her mother still at her side, something I would never feel again. I knew, this is as close as I would get.

"How did you get through it?" I spoke, my voice scratching.

"I was the only one on his side. If I left, he would have had no one," She reached forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead before rubbing my shoulders. "Take it one day at a time, Bella."

We finished the dishes soon after our conversation, and the night seemed to end in a blur. We spent time together in the living room, listening to music as the conversation was lighthearted, sharing stories of their family. We laughed together as Esme told stories of her children when they were young, she even threatened to pull out the old family albums much to Edward and Alice's dismay. Despite the laughs and joy we shared in this room, it was once again a reminder of what I did not have. I shielded my emotions inside, adding different commentary when I could to the conversation but on several occasions, I found myself gripping at the gold bird pendant that rested on my chest. I had noticed Esme watching Edward and me, but it was Carlisle, whose gaze lingered between the two of us, his eyebrows knitting together as if he had an unspoken thought. As the conversation dwindled, Edward and I said our goodbyes. I promised Esme I would return and thanked both her and Carlisle for inviting me. Alice hugged me tightly as we said our goodbyes, promising to see me again soon before we made our way to the car and back home.

xx

Edward switched on the lights, illuminating the loft in a soft orange glow as I stepped out of my ballet slippers, setting them to the side. My neck felt stiff, my body worn as the effects of insomnia began to drain me, leaving me with little to no energy as I made my way to the bed, not even undressing before I collapsed over the sheets, burying my head into my pillow. Edward followed, chuckling as I smiled, closing my eyes until I felt his hands splay across my back, turning me to unzip my dress. I looked back to him in surprise, feeling the fabric being pushed down my body, leaving me in nothing but my bra and underwear.

"Don't look at me like that," He warned, setting my dress to the side as he grabbed a T-shirt from his dresser, showing his intent. I had realized that my mouth had parted slightly, my eyes hazy as I bit my lip, hoping to find a burst of energy to be with him intimately. "You need to go to sleep."

"Who needs sleep?" I hummed as he sat down, grabbing my arms and pulling me into a seating position.

"You do, you're slurring your words," He laughed as I frowned, lifting my arms so he could pull the shirt over my head. He gently pushed me back down, grabbing hold of the comforter as he lifted it to my chin, before sitting back down at the edge of the bed. I watched him for a moment, an overwhelming sense of something I had never felt before bursting inside of me. It was the sight of him being so intimate in such a nonphysical way. To be taken care of like this, knowing he expected nothing in return. It was foreign.

"Thank you," I whispered as he smiled, reaching out to stroke my cheek. I grabbed hold of his wrist, bringing his hand to me as I kissed his palm, feeling everything inside of me vibrating. "I don't care what you did in your past, you know," I said as he paused, brows furrowing as he gently pulled his hand away. "You don't ever have to tell me, I trust you."

"Where is this coming from?"

"Rosalie," I said just as Edward nodded. "We chatted in the kitchen earlier."

"Did you?" He asked, a coy smile playing on his lips from amusement.

"I don't like the way she talks about you."

"She's always been that way."

"I told her to back off," I said as Edward smiled, it warming my soul.

"Only you would take on Rosalie. Thank you for defending my honor. But I don't think she and I will ever be as close as we were," He finished with a simple shrug as I sat up, the comforter falling onto my lap.

"You guys were close?"

"A long time ago, I met her in Seattle with Tanya. That's how she was introduced to Emmett."

"She was an addict too," I responded simply as he looked at me with surprise, "I guessed, just based on her responses. She didn't like it."

"She wants to forget her past, and I get it, she doesn't like that I use mine as an armor. She thinks I should be ashamed. And sometimes I am, but I can't do that when I'm in AA. I need to educate people, and part of that comes from my history," He paused, "I'll tell you anything, I told you that. I'm not hiding from you."

"I know, I just want you to know that I don't care. And maybe I should, with all of the shit that I put up with Charlie, but I don't."

"Are you going to go back?" He asked.

"I'm going to have to," I hesitated, shaking my head. "I'm going to have to get my things, but I don't want to see him."

"I can go for you," He offered. I smiled, shaking my head.

"It's my battle with him. Not yours," I said. Edward stayed silent, nodding his head in understanding. His eyes were cast down at my lap, a thought playing through his head but washing away in an instant. "What is it?"

"Why didn't you tell me about Seattle? About Alice?" He whispered. I felt the slight tension, but he eased it with a touch, his fingers skimming down my arm as he watched me curiously.

"She mentioned it in passing yesterday, and," I wavered, swallowing dryly. "I didn't want to promise you something I can't keep."

Edward watched me, his eyes showing a sadness he would never say out loud. He nodded, breaking a small, despondent, smile. "You'll tell me? Before you go?"

"Edward,"

"You don't have to explain. I get it. Your home is in Phoenix, and I knew that when we got involved. And I would never do something as shitty as forcing you to stay, but I need to know. Just tell me so I can say goodbye," His words trailed off, the hurt in them causing my stomach to tighten as tears misted in my eyes. I was at a loss of what to say, and he knew it. Instead, he reached forward and kissed my cheek, laying me back down against the pillow. "Get some rest; we can talk more in the morning."

The bed felt cold when he left, his footsteps faltering into the bathroom as the door shut behind him, leaving me alone. I was left, stewing in my own thoughts about the decisions I would ultimately have to make. It was clear that Charlie had no intention of getting better, had no desire to at least try and get a job and make it work. After last night, I wasn't sure if our relationship was able to be fixed. Not after the words we said to each other. But the idea of leaving Edward made me sick to my stomach, a man who I hated at first and had grown to have deep seeded feelings for. But I didn't know if it was enough for me to stay. What would Phil think? Gran? If I left, where would it leave them?

I heard the shower turn on just as I wiped at the tears that escaped, scrubbing at my cheeks as I tried not to overthink. I could hear my mother, her telling me to trust my gut. But my emotions were all over the place; I didn't know if I could even do that. What I did know, is that despite what I found in Forks with my father, I had also found something special with Edward. And I wasn't sure I could give that up.

I pulled myself out of bed despite my tiredness and made my way to the bathroom. The steam rolled out as I opened the door, seeing Edward's silhouette through the glass. I began to undress myself, setting my clothes next to his as I gripped the handle, sliding it open just as Edward turned. He was beautiful; his hair now brown from the water as his lean muscles flexed with droplets trailing down his torso. His eyes were a dark emerald as he watched me step one leg in before the other, the heat of the shower making me wince at the sudden change of temperature as I closed the door behind me. We silently watched each other for a few beats, the dripping water the only sound. I stepped to him, closing the gap as I let my hair fall from my ponytail, as it immediately beginning to stick to my neck

He reached forward, touching me, his hands roaming across my body, which caused it to pebble in goosebumps under his palms. I let out a shivering breath, his eyes flickering to mine with a heated gaze just before we molded together, our lips becoming one as his hands traveled to my back, pushing me closer.

He let out a primal groan, my tongue swallowing it as I felt his arousal against my stomach. My arms wrapped around his neck in demand as he willingly answered, lifting me up and against the wall. I realized at this moment that I missed him this way. No inhibitions and no barriers. Just the two of us. He wasted no time, just as eager and ready as me as he pushed himself inside, our lips detaching as I let out a soft moan at the fullness, our bodies positioning comfortably as his head dipped, kissing the mounds of my breasts. He took one of my nipples into his mouth, playfully biting and teasing as his thrusts moved slow at first, deliberate. He held one palm to the wall, his other wrapped around my waist as his pace began to quicken, the two of us moving in unison. I tightened my grip, whispering his name like a chant as my emotion began to overwhelm me, filling me to the brim from the pleasure that lapsed inside of me.

When our gaze connected, I felt it. My jaw unlocked as I shouted his name, my nails scraping along his skin as he didn't stop his movements. I felt tears, not from pain but from the intensity of the moment, the groans that left his lips turning guttural as I felt a coil snap; an orgasm bouldering through me like a spasm that left me shaking in his arms. Once more, he pushed, halting just before his head hung; his palm hitting against the wall, vibrating under me as he reached his climax.

We stayed in that position for a few moments until he lifted me off him, holding me tight so my legs wouldn't slip. He twisted the shower knob before carrying me out, the two of us making our way into bed, without even drying.

Despite my lack of sleep, I had never felt more awake than in this moment, the two of us staying awake to make love several more times before we were finally too exhausted. We fell asleep; his naked chest pressed into my back … his arms wrapped around my front, holding me tight, as if he were afraid I would disappear.

* * *

 _AN: Firstly, I apologize this has taken awhile to get posted! I took a trip back in March and when I came back, I was swamped. Thank you for sticking around, I appreciate you!_

 _To all the readers who have favorited, followed and reviewed - I love you to the moon and back! Seriously, you mean the world to me._

 _Thank you to my Beta - Fran! Couldn't have done this without you!_

 _We've got about six more chapters left, people!_

 _See you next time!_

\- ii


	17. Blood

_Chapter Song - Medicine by Daughter_

 _"You've got a warm heart,_  
 _You've got a beautiful brain,_  
 _But it's disintegrating,_  
 _From all the medicine."_

* * *

I felt lips trail down my back, leaving warmth in their wake. I hid my smile in the pillows, feeling large hands grab ahold of my waist and turn me around. He was smiling, all toothy and big as I laughed in response, touching his cheek as my fingers brushed through the stubble on his chin. He smelled of mint mixed with his natural sandalwood as I took in the greenness of his eyes, which now were watching me with a longing gaze. My pointer finger traced his bottom lip, his mouth slightly opening as his teeth gently bit down, eliciting a giggle from my end. He groaned, pressing his face into my neck as I wrapped my fingers into the mess of his dark, crimson locks. I made a mental note to remind him to get a haircut, as the long tresses were starting to dip in front of his eyes. We stayed in each other's arms for a moment, basking in the others grasp until I felt his chest vibrate against mine.

"I've got to deal with the bar before my AA meeting today," He whispered sadly, pressing a kiss to my earlobe.

"You better go then," I said, pulling away to look up at him.

"How can I go anywhere when you're here, naked in my bed?" He questioned with a smirk as I reflected it, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

"The sooner you leave, the sooner I can get my things done, and then we can meet back here," I told him, brushing the hair away from his face.

"Are you going to be okay?" He asked as I nodded hesitantly, "I can move the bar stuff to tomorrow."

"You've been talking about how behind you've been for days. I'll be okay," I promised, reaching up to kiss his chin, wiggling myself from under his arms. Swinging my legs over the bed, I reached down to grab a shirt from the floor, pulling it over my head and down my torso. Edward sat back, scratching at his stubble as I stood, grabbing a pair of underwear before sliding them on. "Don't look at me like that." I scolded, his eyes holding apprehension.

"You haven't seen him for two weeks."

"I need the rest of my stuff, Edward," I argued.

"I know; I just wish you weren't going alone," He shrugged as I eased myself onto the bed, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, feeling his hands on my waist.

"I can handle myself," I whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I don't need you to worry about me. It's just Charlie. And you're the one who said you hadn't seen him in a few days at Masen's. I'm sure no one has checked on him."

"But you will? After what he said to you?"

"He's my father, Edward."

It had been two weeks since my fight with Charlie.

Hidden away in Edward's loft, the two of us had made a routine together. It wasn't perfect, but it was ours. Edward worked at Masen's at different hours while I stayed behind, working on more writing than I had done in the past few months. While my father still loomed in the back of my mind, I found it easy to relax when I wasn't near him. Edward had told me Charlie showed up at Masen's a few times, but not once did he ask about me. There was no concern of where I was, what I was doing or if I was safe. I wish I could say I was surprised, but I wasn't. Charlie wasn't paternal, and I knew he wouldn't start now, no matter how much guilt he may have felt. So, we both kept our distance. I made sure to stay away from Masen's, despite being just above it in Edward's loft.

I found myself spending a lot of time with Alice; the two of us going out for drinks or even taking trips to Port Angeles. I enjoyed her company, despite us being quite the opposites. I found myself gravitated towards her much like everyone in the Cullen family. Edward and I even had lunch with Esme and Carlisle a few times, my relationship with them expanding. There was a family dynamic within them I knew I was lacking. Alice was like a sister I had never had, and Esme and Carlisle treated me as if I were their own. It was as if they welcomed me with open arms with no hesitation. Esme had even admitted to me privately how much she enjoyed me being around and how good Edward and I were for each other.

I felt, for once, whole.

When we weren't busy with writing, the bar, or his family, Edward and I would just spend the time together. He would take me out on dates, or we would just stay in and enjoy a movie before making our way to the bed without our clothes.

I could say with the utmost honesty that being with Edward intimately was something I had never experienced before. Being so raw and open with someone like him, it made me feel as if I were floating. I craved him throughout the day, even calling him when he was down at the bar and asking him to come upstairs for a quick break. I knew this was the honeymoon stage, but I was taking advantage of it for every second I could.

My favorite moments, however, were after we were done. Curled up into each other, we talked about our favorite things, our dreams, and even some of our plans. We avoided the topic of Phoenix, keeping our bubble small and perfect and avoided any reality entering it. But, it was a heavy topic on my mind. Despite our happiness together, I knew he was worried. I had a decision to make, one I was ignoring. Even with my phone calls to Phil, I found myself unable to approach the conversation with him. He asked me when I was coming home, how much he misses me, how much Gran misses me. I lied to save face, told him I was still working with Charlie when in reality I hadn't seen him for days.

I didn't want to leave Edward, but I also didn't want to abandon what was left of my family back in Phoenix. I tried not to dwell on it, but as time passed, we grew closer, and I found myself becoming tethered to him.

"Just call me if you need anything, okay?" He asked, pulling me from my thoughts. I nodded my head, leaving him with one single kiss before we both moved from the bed, getting ready for our day.

We parted ways when we hit the bottom of the stairs of the loft, Edward turning towards Masen's as I made my way to my car and headed to Charlie's. I felt the anxiety creeping in; different scenarios filtering through my head of how our reunion would be. I had hoped he wouldn't be home, so I could avoid the inevitable fight. It wasn't long before I pulled into the driveway, looking at my old childhood home and to the porch where we both were, just two weeks ago, screaming at each other until I left.

I stepped out of the car and took a deep breath, only a few steps in until I felt the crunch of glass beneath my feet. I realized it was the whiskey bottle he had thrown to the ground amidst our angry exchange; it shattering into a million pieces from the walkway and then into the grass. I exhaled heavily, not surprised he hadn't cleaned up the aftermath from the night. I moved forward, climbing the stairs to find the front door unlocked. Slowly, I opened it, the sun leaking into the foyer, the house eerily quiet.

"Charlie?" I hesitated between the doorway to the kitchen, grimacing at the dirty dishes that were piled in the sink and overflowed to the counters. The table was littered with takeout containers, and empty beer bottles as trash scattered over the floor. I moved through the room, pushing items out of my path with the toe of my shoe, making my way to the living room. The mess from our altercation two weeks ago hadn't moved, the shelves were still torn from the wall; papers scattered everywhere. The TV was on but muted, and I swallowed a dry gulp as I walked back into the front room, lingering at the bottom of the stairs.

"Charlie, are you home?" I shouted but was met with nothing but silence. I gripped the old wooden banister as I slowly made my way up, feeling my gut turn on instinct. The floorboards creaked to life with every step, my eyes adjusting to the darkness until I reached the top, touching the switch and flickering on the hallway light.

I clutched at my chest, shocked at the sight of a body on the floor, my muscles tensing and then relaxing when I realized it was Charlie, with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. "Charlie," I said more pointedly, moving closer as I noticed his back rising and falling. I reached, hitting his foot with the tip of my boot. "Hey," I whispered loudly, coaxing him awake.

He was still; the only movement was his back. I noticed a pile of vomit just near his mouth. It was a strange color, and as I moved closer to examine, I realized it wasn't vomit but instead a pool of blood that had begun to stain the rug.

"Charlie!" I screamed. Reacting almost immediately and thrusting myself to the ground, I rolled him over to his side. He groaned, blood trickling from his chin as I noted his stomach. It was unnaturally bloated, and as my fingers touched the top of his abdomen, he let out a yell, pushing me away. "Charlie, wake up!"

Rapidly, his eyes shot open, red and dilated as he moved his arms to distance me, rolling to his side as his mouth opened, blood spraying and dampening the rug.

xx

I tapped my thumb along the metal arm of the chair as I sat in the hospital waiting room. My legs curled up to my chest, cocooning myself as patients, family members, nurses, and doctors walked in and out. A screaming baby had caused me to shut my eyes, but the moment I did so visions of Charlie spewing blood over the hallway rug assaulted my mind, and I felt myself immediately become sick to my stomach. I uncurled my legs, hanging my head as I rubbed the back of my neck, willing the sight of it from my brain. Everything seemed like it happened in rapid motion; once Charlie was finished vomiting, I immediately called 911. I cried with the operator until the ambulance came, following behind them in my car. When they took Charlie inside, I wasn't sure what was going to happen, but I was told I would be notified after they stabilized him.

And here I sat, almost two hours later, with no word from the doctors. I heard shuffling behind me, my head turning to see Edward enter the room with two styrofoam cups in his hands. He reached out to me, and I grabbed one, sparing him a smile as I sipped on the coffee. I called him on my way to the hospital, trying to explain what happened through sobs. He had met me here almost immediately, calling Carlisle and asking him to come in to see if we could get answers sooner. Edward stayed at my side, silently attempting to soothe me as my nerves felt shot.

We turned at the sound of the double doors opening, Carlisle walking through with a clipboard in his hand. "Bella," He said as both Edward and I stood, meeting him halfway. "We've stabilized him." Carlisle nodded as I let out a breath of relief. "He was extremely dehydrated, so we set him up on fluids."

"Did you run any tests?" Edward asked.

"Yes," Carlisle said slowly, looking back to me before hesitating. "The bloating and blood in the vomit was from the stress his body is under." He said. "When Charlie was in a month or so ago, I had a feeling I knew what was going on. But, because he didn't want the extra tests, I couldn't be sure. But now, having the lab results, it all came back the same. Charlie has Hepatitis C, more specifically, stage two of cirrhosis. In other words, liver disease."

 _Liver disease_. Carlisle had mentioned it when we visited the hospital after Charlie wrecked the truck. Charlie refused to confirm it because he knew what the diagnosis would be. He didn't want to give me any more ammo to guilt him into stopping, but now it was a reality.

"Okay," I gulped dryly, "What does that mean for him?"

"It means we will focus on keeping the condition from worsening, but he needs to stop drinking immediately. If he does that, it is possible we can slow down the damage and keep the liver tissue that's left, healthy." Carlisle finished, looking between the two of us. Edward ran the palm of his hand down his face as I began to feel sick, my head warping around the idea, yet again, of Charlie quitting the only thing he loved the most. I felt Edward's hand on mine, grounding me back to reality as I looked to Carlisle.

"And if he doesn't stop?"

Carlisle breathed heavily; fully aware the likelihood of Charlie quitting was slim.

"The disease will progress; it will begin to affect other organs in the body such as his kidneys. Once it gets to a certain point, the only way against it is a transplant. But, that is a route we don't want to go. Especially with Charlie."

"Why especially with Charlie?"

"Because, the list for a liver is long. Not only do others have seniority over him, but, when we look at potential recipients we …" Carlisle paused, faltering.

"You what?"

Carlisle sighed, "We look at those who will benefit the most. Those who have a shot at surviving. Not someone who is more than likely to abuse a new liver just as they did the last. And Charlie's history makes him unreliable."

"And if he doesn't get a transplant?" I asked.

"As I said, it will corrupt other organs, and his body will start to shut down. Less than fifty percent of patients who are diagnosed with stage four cirrhosis survive past the first year." Carlisle brought his clipboard to his chest, his gaze lingering on me as he stepped closer, reaching an arm out to my shoulder. "I know this doesn't come as a surprise to any of us, but I still wish I had better news for you. The silver lining is that we caught it early enough. I'm going to start him on medication, but, it will only help if he makes a lifestyle change."

"You know he won't," The words were heavy like a weight on my shoulders as we stared. Carlisle was conflicted between doctor and friend, trying to see the better side of a situation we all knew would never improve.

"He has to try. It's his only hope," His hand released from me as he glanced between Edward and myself. "He's awake and eating, which are good signs. Feel free to go back and visit, room eleven. We'll connect later." Carlisle left with a nod as Edward, and I stood still, my palms scrubbing at my face. I dropped my hands, moving to the wall just a few feet away to rest my shoulder on, keeping me still.

"Hey," Edward whispered, making his way in front of me as he gripped my side. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No, I know you have AA," I said, shaking my head. "I'll meet you at the community center after, okay?"

Edward hesitated, but nodded. He reached down, pressing his lips against my forehead before giving me a final squeeze just as he exited. I watched him go, before turning to the white hallway in front of me. I counted each sign outside of the room, all the way up to eleven until I felt the strength to lift myself from the wall.

When I reached the room, the TV blared just as it did from home. I could hear Charlie laughing, which immediately caused the tension to run through my body, my fists clenched; annoyed at the fact that he was _enjoying_ himself after receiving the news of his diagnosis. I muttered curses under my breath, hovering just before the open door. I ran my fingers through my hair, willing myself to take a deep breath before I stepped forward, just at the threshold of the room. Charlie laid in his bed, a cup of Jell-O in his hands, his eyes glued on the TV that hung in the corner of the room. I pictured when I last saw him, his body convulsing as blood spilled from his lips. A stark difference to what I saw now. I cleared my throat, watching as his eyes swiveled to mine, widening in surprise.

"Hey!" He shouted, enthusiastically. "I'm glad you're here, try and get me some more of these Jell-O cups, would ya?" He asked, holding up the half empty cup. "It's the only thing distracting me from not having any whiskey in this shit hole."

"Really?" I dead-panned, narrowing my eyes at him as he smiled.

"It's nice to see you, Bells. It's been a while," He took a mouthful, his eyes alternating between me and the TV, making his comment sound ingenuine.

"Two weeks," I corrected, tugging off my side bag and making my way to the leather chair that sat underneath the TV, just next to the bed. "Seems like you've been up to the same old thing."

"I _am_ a creature of habit," He said with a shrug. "But then again, so are you. I'm assuming you didn't leave Forks?"

"When I leave Forks, I'm not coming back," I said pointedly.

"That's the right attitude. So, you've been shacking up with Cullen? Trading secrets?"

"Secrets?" I asked, confused.

"Must not have been, or you wouldn't be here," Charlie laughed under his breath, his words cryptic.

"What the hell are you talking about, Charlie?"

"Don't mind me," He said, tugging on the IV attached on his arm. "It's this drip; it's making me all loopy." He laughed as I shook my head, rubbing my temples as he continued to eat his food. I eased back into the leather chair, crossing my legs as I tapped my thumb along my knee. Charlie ignored me, his eyes on the TV as he let out a few chuckles, ignoring my presence.

"I talked to Carlisle," I began, watching as he glared down. "He told me you are really sick."

"They say that every time, and look at me. _You are going to drink yourself into an early grave. Your liver can't take that much abuse. You can't live this way anymore_." He mocked the doctors, stabbing his Jell-O before taking the last bite. "I'm still here, alive and kicking," He smiled, his teeth tinted with red.

"Barely. This is the second time since I've been here that I've found you on the floor like that. You're lucky I didn't leave town or no one would have come to check on you."

"I would have been fine, this has happened before and I've gotten right up," He brushed me off, shrugging his shoulders coolly.

" _You puked blood_. That's your body telling you something is wrong."

"Not the first time I've done that and definitely not the last. My body is just flushing things out, it knows what to do," He shrugged, crossing his legs at the bottom as he stared up at the TV just above my head. I turned, noticing Seinfeld on just as I grabbed the remote, turning it off. "Hey!"

"Can you just have a real conversation with me? Try and grasp what the doctors are telling you? Why does it always have to be life or death for you to take notice?" I growled, slamming the controller back onto the tray in front of him.

"Hospitals are all the same; they try to con you into taking more tests to rack up the bills. I've been here before, been told the same thing. Just because some test tube tells them my liver is kicking out doesn't mean I need to change everything. It's gotten me this far," He said, patting his upper stomach.

"By some miracle, it has gotten you this far," I said, pausing. "What's the matter with you; why aren't you taking this seriously?"

"Do you really want to have this conversation again? Didn't we shout at each other enough the other night?" He asked deliberately. "You can listen to the doctors all you want. Modern medicine will trick you into believing all of the crap they spew just so they can squeeze all the money they can from you. Even Carlisle buys into that bull, and I actually like him."

I laughed emptily, shaking my head at his idiotic rambling. "You know … This wasn't how I imagined being told you were dying. I always thought it would be when I was younger and back in Phoenix. I'd come home from school one day, and Mom would sit me down and tell me that it finally happened. You had that one drink that just pushed you over the edge."

"Your mom probably would have done cartwheels around the room," He joked, running a hand to slick back his oily hair. "I'm sure she's mad as hell that I outlived her."

"I think I would have felt relieved," I whispered, ignoring his comment about my mother. Charlie chuckled at my choice of words, his wrinkles curling around his smile. "I used to worry about you. Used to blame Mom for giving up and I had no control or say in the matter. She just left you here in Forks to drink yourself away. But then you didn't even try to contact me; didn't even fight for me. You dying would have brought me some kind of peace. I wouldn't have to stress over what you were doing."

"Who said I never tried to contact you?" He asked, his voice low.

"One card a year for my birthday doesn't count," I said as he let out an empty chuckle, shaking his head. He turned to me, wanting to say something but thought better of it.

"So, I'm supposed to stop drinking so you won't feel guilty?"

"You're supposed to stop drinking because the doctors say if you don't, then you're going to die. You can deny it all you want up until your last breath. But you need to face the facts. You have a chance to live if you just do what they're telling you. Do you know what will happen if you get to the last stage of liver disease? You'll need a transplant. You and millions of others just in the Olympic Peninsula area. Do you really think they're going to give it to a middle-aged alcoholic who doesn't listen?" I asked as he adverted is gaze from me.

There was a pause; silence overcame the room as Charlie eased back in the bed, glaring at the tray in front of him. In this vulnerable stage, he looked the worst I had ever seen him. His stringy, peppered, greasy hair hung in his face. Lines and wrinkles showed more of his age than what he truly was, but it was because of the lifestyle he lived. His skin was jaundiced, his eyes red as his lip twitched under his wiry mustache.

"What if I don't want to change?" He asked under his breath. I forced a halfhearted smile, uncrossing my legs as our eyes met.

"Then I would know what I always feared is true."

"What's that?"

"That you don't give a shit about me," I stood from the chair, looking back to the bed where he lay, sickly and unmoving. I paused, looking to the door as I fought back the tears, clearing my throat to disguise the emotions that bubbled to the surface. Satisfied with no more tears, I looked back to him, his head back against the pillows as he closed his eyes, avoiding any contact. "I'll be back tomorrow to take you home," I said, pausing, picking at the skin of my thumbnail. "I can't force you to quit, but I'm not going to be the one to bury you." I pleaded just as I turned around, exiting the room.

xx

I made my way up the stone path as the sun set beyond the trees; the light from the community center guiding me to the front. I made my way inside, the hallway quiet except for a lone voice that traveled down from an opened double door. Quietly, I made my way down the hallway and hesitated just before the opening. A woman was speaking, her voice gravely and low as a few coughs escaped from others. I didn't want to intrude, but I found myself turning my head to look inside. The chairs were circled just as they had been before, every spot filled, as all eyes pointed to a woman who sat to the side of the circle. She was tan, covered by an oversized hoodie and wearing tattered jeans. Her brown eyes were sunken in, and her hair was slicked to the top of her head. Her leg was bouncing nervously as she bit at her lip.

"I felt like I had no one, you know?" The young woman shuffled in her seat, uncomfortable about the topic as she rubbed her hands together, trying to calm her nerves. "My boyfriend left with our son, my parents cut me off, my friends acted like I didn't exist. I thought, what was the point in quitting when no one wanted to be here to support me?" Tears prickled at her eyes, her tattoo-covered fingers wiping them away as a man next to her reached over, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I almost died in a car accident when I was on a meth high. I was in the hospital for weeks because of reconstructive surgery. I was forced to go through withdrawal, and I swear it was worse than the three surgeries to fix my broken bones."

She hesitated, rubbing her nose as everyone stayed silent. There was a glimmer in her eyes, tears threatening their way out but she cleared her throat, shaking her head to will away the emotions that bubbled inside of her.

"I'm thankful I found you guys when I did. I know this is only my second meeting, but I have no one to talk to, and sometimes it's so fucking lonely. I think about just taking one more hit. It couldn't hurt, right? I'd jeopardize everything I've worked on for just one more time of feeling the high. And I know it's not worth it, but damn. Sometimes I wish you guys were my family, all supportive and shit," She laughed emptily, shaking her head.

"We are your family," Edward began from his seat. "In some twisted way, we all feel what you do in some form or another."

"Thanks, guys," She nodded, giving Edward a half smile.

"Thank you, Leah. It can be hard to open yourself up, but I promise you this is a safe place," Edward said as everyone murmured their agreeance, smiling to ease her tension of telling her story. "Sometimes, we feel like we are drowning, right? Especially if you don't have anyone cheering you on from the sidelines. Ties were broken when we were addicted, and even now, as we're trying to better ourselves, sometimes the people from our past don't want to give us the chance. They're afraid they'll be hurt again by our actions. And who can blame them?" Edward asked as others nodded around the circle, listening intently to his words.

"We don't get to choose who wants to stay. We can only grip onto the people who continue to support us, even in our worst moments," Edward paused, looking around the room as his audience nodded their heads, "Some of us have that system at home. People who love us despite our faults. And some of us only have the people in this room. But nevertheless, those who uplift and support you are the people who you need to cling to; they are the light that keeps you hopeful, so make sure you don't let them go."

I felt a lump in my throat, watching as Edward addressed those who he helped most. They varied from different ages, races, and sex but every single one of them looked at him the same way. They were lost, unsure of their next step because all they knew was addiction. I felt a sense of pride in Edward at that moment. I felt what Esme and Carlisle did every time they saw him sober. He went beyond his problems, used it to help others, and that was a trait I didn't see in enough people. I rested my head against the doorframe, watching as Edward wrapped up before our eyes met. He had a crooked smile, one that made me feel something that was so foreign.

"Thanks for coming in tonight, guys. We'll pick this up on Thursday," Edward said as everyone stood from their seats, some stopping Edward to talk privately. I watched him interact with them all and never once did he cut them off or rush them. He spent time with those who needed it the most, and eventually, they all trickled out one by one, until it was just him and me.

"Hey," He breathed from across the room, rolling his sweater up to his elbows as he smiled.

I rushed across the room to envelop myself into his arms. Although startled, he welcomed me, wrapping himself around my body as the smell of him instantly comforted the anxiety I felt harboring inside. It was strange to me how he made me forget about all the things I worried most; like every breath was taken out of my lungs. I felt my chest tighten, my body relaxing and molding into his as if he were holding me to the ground and was my only stable force. I felt overwhelmed with emotion, the exhaustion of earlier being wiped away from just being in his arms. _Would it always feel like this?_ He pressed his lips to the top of my head; his fingers curling around strands of hair as our grip began to loosen.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly, gripping my shoulders to gently pull me away. He wanted to look at me, stare into my eyes as I answered him, but no words could come. I only nodded, wanting to tell him that while I wasn't _okay,_ when I was with him, I felt as if I was. But the words were lost on my tongue, and I thought back to only a month and a half ago … feeling nothing but animosity for Edward, and how now I feel as if I couldn't be away from him for more than five minutes.

I reached up, continuing to avoid his question as the tip of my pointer finger traced his lips. He pouted, creating an urge for me to kiss it away. He gripped my wrist, his thumb pad trailing around my pulse as he pulled my fingers from his lips, looking at me questioningly.

"What's wrong?" He asked as I shook my head, reaching for him again, circling my arms around his middle. He held me tightly, moving us to the chairs in the circle, sitting me down in one as he placed himself next to me. My arms unwrapped from him, his hand sliding down to rest on my thigh as I brushed back my hair, tucking it behind my ear.

"I can help him anymore," I whispered, looking up to see green eyes staring intently, drawing me in.

"It's not your job to help him," He said, "It never was."

"I'm his daughter. Doesn't that count for something?"

"It counts for everything. But if he's not willing to help himself, there is nothing you can do, Bella. I know it's hard, but you can't keep breaking your back for him. It's not fair to you."

"He doesn't even want to try. He doesn't even acknowledge that I am trying to help; I don't understand what his problem is." I growled, frustrated over my father. Edward was quiet for a moment, his hand soothingly gripping me, allowing me a moment to work through my anger.

"Some people distance themselves from their loved ones. Sometimes it's because of the guilt of disappointing. Others fear what would happen if they overdosed in their home and their loved ones find them," He finished as I let out an empty chuckle.

"Like my mother?" I asked as Edward froze, hesitant on a response. He rubbed his palms against his knees, a brief flash of anxiety crossing his face. "I guess she wasn't that selfless; she didn't care when she swallowed that bottle if I found her or not."

"I'm sure that wasn't it, Bella. Sometimes, it's recklessness. One mistake and that's it. She loved you. She wouldn't have wanted you to see her like that."

"But she did it anyway," I challenged, standing from my seat as Edward's gaze followed me. "She knew what I had gone through, what they both put me through and she still did it." I paused, gripping at my scalp as I paced in front of Edward, feeling dizzy from the emotions that swallowed me, keeping me in a constant state of anxiety. "I had gotten the job at the publishing firm; I was so excited to tell her. And I knew something was off, I hadn't seen her for a few days, but in our phone calls, she sounded somber. I just thought she was in a funk, that happened sometimes. _I should have known_." I continued to pace, recalling that day just a few months ago as Edward watched me silently, afraid of interrupting.

"I remember it was raining, and the air didn't feel so dry. Phil was working in the garage; he told me she was under the weather and had been in bed all day. I thought I could cheer her up, thought maybe I could get her through whatever she was feeling. And I remember hitting the stairs and feeling as if something was wrong … like the house was off balance; as if something terrible had happened. I think I knew even then. I don't know how, but I could feel it. And when I opened her door … I saw her on the floor, in her nightgown. I thought maybe she fell, maybe she hit her head and passed out. But when I saw the orange bottle in her hand, I knew."

"Bella…"

"I got on my knees, and turned her body so I could see her face. She was so cold. And her lips were blue, and there was foam in her mouth, and I was calling for help, but I think I already knew. I knew she was gone," I stopped for a moment, rubbing my chest just over my heart as I felt it break all over again. "I had no idea; I didn't even know she was using again. I felt so stupid, and I was so angry, and I couldn't stop crying. I tried to perform CPR; I tried to bring her back."

Shakily, I found my way back to the seat next to him, tears escaping and running past my cheeks as I scrubbed at them angrily. I couldn't get a read on which emotion I was feeling, everything hitting me at once. It was like my brain was running a million miles per second; I couldn't catch up. I felt Edward rest his palm on my shoulder, inching behind my back to rub it soothingly, forcing me to relax. I opened my eyes, seeing the worry in his. I turned my knees towards him, so that we were touching, my hand reaching out to grab his free one as I felt the words caught in my throat.

"I can't ever get that picture out of my head. That's why, when I found Charlie in the bathroom that time, with the mouthwash, or earlier today in the hallway, I felt it all over again. That's why I called you because I just couldn't help him. It was like my mind shut down; finding him on the floor the same way I found her. _I couldn't breathe_. I will never be able to get rid of that from my memory, and I wish I could. I wish I could take it out. I see it when I close my eyes; I see it when I sleep. I don't know if I will ever get rid of it."

"It's okay," Edward willed me to calm down, but I shook my head, more tears running down my cheeks.

"It's not okay. None of it is okay. Sometimes, my mind feels so tangled, like I can't even put together a coherent thought when all I can do is picture her dead body on the ground. I have all these questions I'll never get an answer to, and now I feel like I'm repeating the same story with Charlie, and I feel like I won't ever get out of this constant loop I'm in. Phoenix will never be the same for me. It hasn't been since she's been gone. I don't think I can go back. But I don't know if I can stay here. Anywhere I've been, it's been tainted with shitty memories I want to get rid of. Sometimes I get this urge just to run away, to leave all of this bad behind me."

I wiped my tears, trying to reel myself in from my outburst as I cleared my dry throat. Edward was watching me; his gaze never faltering as his eyes held a sense of knowing. If anyone knew how I felt, it had to be him. Being abandoned by your parents, no matter the circumstances, was always something hard to swallow. But his look was not of pity, but of an understanding about how it felt to be left behind.

"Why don't you?" His voice filtered through as I brushed back my hair, looking at him questioningly.

"What?"

"You don't have to go back to Phoenix and you don't have to stay in Forks. There are millions of other places to live. To start new," His tone was set, but I found a slight humor in his question. I sniffled, shaking my head.

"Edward …"

"Think about going to a new town," He paused, inching himself closer to me, "Where no one knows who you are or what you've been through. No one knows of the things you had to deal with; there is no stigma around you. I can't tell you how many times I thought of that. I see the way people look at me in this town, and I get it. It would be nice to be known as something other than a former addict. I've wanted a clean slate."

I realized Edward had more than enough reason to leave just as I did. At least in this town, Charlie kept me enough of a secret, but with Edward, it was like his life was an open book. Everyone knew of his mistakes, knew what he did in his past; an alcoholic with parent issues. I didn't give much thought before on how much this place shaped him just as much it did me. He had every reason to flee.

"You talk about being tethered in places that make you miserable, but there's nothing keeping you here; nothing keeping me here."

"You would go with me?" I asked hesitantly, but he nodded immediately at my question, "But … your family."

"They will support me like they always have. This state has done nothing but deal me the same shitty cards it has you. Why are we staying?"

"You want to … Run away?"

"If that makes you happy. You say the word. I want to be where you are. Wherever that is," He reached forward, bringing his lips to my forehead. "You're my light; I'd follow you anywhere if you'll have me."

His hands reached for mine, and they interlocked. I wanted to tell him I would have him any way he would give me, but my words were stolen as our lips met, kissing tenderly. Every worry and nerve that coursed through me stood still and frozen at his attention. I knew at that moment that just as much as he would follow me, I would follow him.

Once so closed off to him, I felt open and bare, and I didn't mind it, not with him. I felt my heart hammering so loud I swore he could have heard it, but I didn't care. I wanted him to know he had that effect on me; that he made me a better person.

Forks might be riddled with bad memories, but I was finding better ones with him. And I knew the feeling I harbored was not fleeting; the way he made me feel was not confusing. Instead, it was perfect clarity, moments that had built up to what we were. He said I was his light; I was his hope. The feeling was mutual. It was something I was so scared of before, something I avoided so I wouldn't get hurt. But I knew what it was the moment I saw his jade eyes and that crooked smile. The moment I smelled the sandalwood that clung to him or when I heard his voice.

It wasn't just any feeling.

It was love.

* * *

 _AN: How are we doing kids? Pretty heavy stuff._

 _Shout out to everyone who has favorited, followed and reviewed. You are my light._

 _Shout out to Fran, she keeps me honest every time I send her a chapter!_

 _Let me know what you think and I'll love you forever!_

 _Until next time,_

 _ii_


	18. Calm

_Chapter Song - This Year's Love by David Gray_

 _"This year's love had better last_  
 _Heaven knows it's high time_  
 _I've been waiting on my own too long_  
 _And when ya hold me like you do_  
 _It feels so right."_

* * *

I was aggravated before I had even opened my eyes, the sound of vibrating filling the quiet room and waking me from my sleep. I smacked my hand against the side table, blindly stumbling for my phone that buzzed against the wood of the side table. Edward moved behind me, his arm clutching my side in response to the noise as my eyes squinted at the morning light. I wiggled myself from his grip, my fingers finally finding the phone, and I blinked to adjust my sight before answering.

"Hello?"

"Bella, it's Carlisle," He said as I sat up, clutching the white linen sheet to my bare chest. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"It's okay, is everything all right?"

"Yes, everything is fine. I just wanted you to know I finished Charlie's discharge papers. He said you were his way home," He finished as I nodded, running my fingers through my knotted hair.

"Yeah, I can come to get him. Thank you, Carlisle."

"You're welcome."

I hung up, setting my phone back to the bedside table as I looked down to at Edward who slept soundly next to me, curled in the very same sheets as his chaotic, auburn hair stuck out in different places. I couldn't help but smile, sliding back into the mattress as I smoothed down his unruly locks. His lips parted, a soft grunt leaving them as I held back a laugh, leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose.

Very suddenly, his arm tightened around me, engulfing my whole body as I let out a surprised, boisterous squeal as the sheet my body. His lips began to attack my collarbone, his warm hands splaying across my back as he pushed our chests flush together. My squeal had turned into a fit of giggles as he tickled my sides, which soon evolved into pleads for him to stop. He settled, our bodies relaxing as an arm wrapped around my shoulder and he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Can we just hide under these blankets all day?" He asked as I bit back a smile, gripping his side. "We can just sleep, talk, eat … Have passionate, carnal sex," He snarled against my ear as I laughed into the pillow, his mouth making its way down my neck.

"That sounds…" I paused, hiding a moan as I felt his teeth grazing my skin. He chuckled in response, his hands nearing dangerously close to the lower half of my body. " _Impossible_."

"Why?"

"Don't you think someone would come looking for us if we were to just hide here all day?"

"To hell with them," He stated, "We can ignore our responsibilities. I'm down to play some hooky, especially with you," He breathed, gripping my leg and hiking it over his thigh so I could feel everything. I let out a wimpy moan, biting my lip as he looked at me with his green eyes blazing.

"You make a tempting offer."

"I'm pretty tempting," He flashed his crooked smile, and I felt my resolve slowly breaking. He moved to my collarbone, his tongue peeking as I tilted my head back, enjoying the attention, forgetting almost instantly the phone call I had just taken minutes prior. My arms wrapped around his neck as he moved onto his back, hoisting me on top of him just as our lips found each other. I ground my body against his, feeling his arousal as he growled into my mouth, his fingers gripping at the skin of my hips to help move me just a more few inches to find what we sought the most.

" _Edward!"_

Our movement halted the second we heard his name being called, followed by knocks at the door down the stairs, prompting both our heads to turn. The voice continued, the knocks becoming harder and more insistent as our eyes met.

"Who is that?" I asked, breathless from our intimate moment. Edward pulled me off his lap and swung his legs off the bed, grabbing his pants as he pulled them on. I followed suit, finding my own clothes as I began to dress.

"Edward, please let me in!" The voice was distraught, his head turning to me as his eyes went somber. He knew who it was without even looking on the other side. "Edward, please! I need you! Please, open the door!"

"Fuck," He gripped his hair, conflicted. "I'll – I'll get rid of her."

"Edward! Please!" She, Tanya, cried. I had an overwhelming feeling that the bubble we created in this loft was soon going to burst. Edward walked down the stairs, opening the door as I moved towards the banister.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" Edward growled.

"He's here to help me, _please_ don't fight."

"I'm not trying to cause any trouble, Edward," A low, unfamiliar voice said.

"Why the fuck did you bring him? And why are you even here? I told you I was done with this shit, Tanya!" Edward's voice was stern, unmoving.

" _Please_ , he brought me here because I didn't know where else to go. I don't know what to do. He was the only one willing to help, you know everyone has turned their back on me."

" _That's not my fault_."

"I know, okay?" Tanya cried, "I know I fucked up, I just need help. I need someone to help me. I need you to help me! I'm spiraling, I don't know where else to go."

"Why don't you go back home?"

"You know I can't do that! Please! Can we just talk? I can't stay at Eclipse anymore."

"She's got some people after her," The man said from the side.

"That's not my fucking problem!"

"Edward," I said from the top of the stairs, all three heads turning to me. "Just hear what she has to say."

His eyes blanked, confusion washing over his face until he realized that my words were true. Edward turned back to the two of them, the man watching him as Tanya stared up at me. It was clear she was in bad shape; her hair was tangled at the back of her head, her makeup smeared down her face; clothes torn and barely hanging on her. The man was blonde, tattoos licking up his neck as he watched Edward with a muted expression. Edward stepped to the side, allowing them full access as they walked up the stairs. Tanya hesitated around me, nodding her head as if to say, thank you.

"I'm James, I don't think we have – "

"Don't fucking talk to her," Edward growled, startling even me as he hit the top step, blocking their path in front of me. "You've got two minutes." Edward bit as Tanya watched me behind him with a fixed stare, her dilated pupils bouncing back and forth between the two of us as if she were bewildered by actions. The man, James, didn't seem to mind Edward's outburst and instead straightened in his spot before continuing.

"Well, I found Tanya outside of Eclipse. Felix was there, pushing her around," James began to explain as Tanya brushed away tears, her entire body posture tense and almost caving in as if she were about to break at any moment. "I scared him off, but, she owes him money. He'll be back for her at some point."

"I still don't understand how this involves me."

"I can get the money from my mom, but I can only do it if I get clean. You know she won't give it to me any other way. And it made me think about your offer, and I think I'm ready now," Tanya cried, stepping closer to him to show affection. He stepped back, shielding me. She immediately picked up on his movements, her eyes trailing back to me as she rubbed at her puffy cheeks. "I know it may not seem like it, but I have no other choice. I need your help, Edward."

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose, turning to me with a subdued look as if he were atoning for what was happening. I was a fool to think that Tanya would leave his life so gracefully, but I understood why she kept coming back. ]If I had lost him, I think I would feel the same way. He needed to close this chapter, one I didn't need to be a part of for us to move forward. I spared him an encouraging smile that barely reached my eyes, my hand reaching out to brush against his arm as if to let him know I was not angry. I grabbed my bag from the kitchen counter, knowing I needed to be anywhere but here. I slipped on my black, ballet flats and stopped in front of him, reaching forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"It's okay," I assured him. "Do the right thing."

His eyes softened as he nodded, "I'll find you later," He promised as I smiled, moving past him to spare one last look at Tanya who gave me a slight nod.

xx

"There you are!" Charlie huffed, sitting at the edge of his bed just as I had entered the room. Despite being here, my mind was still back at Edward's. I wondered what happened, if he decided to help or if once I left, he turned her down again. I felt my stomach twisting, my lips pressing together as I tried to ignore my thoughts.

"Sorry, I got preoccupied with something," I sighed, rubbing the side of my face with my palm. "You ready?" I asked as Charlie hesitated, watching me.

"You okay?" He asked as I blinked at him, the corner of my lips turning.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Well, shit, let's go," He said enthusiastically just as the door opened.

"Ah – I'm glad I caught the both of you," Carlisle walked into the door as Charlie groaned, sitting back down at the edge of the bed. "Another warm welcome from Charlie."

"I just want to get out of this hell hole!" He growled, crossing his arms as I shot him a glare.

"Charlie," I hissed as Carlisle smiled.

"It's quite all right, Bella; I know Charlie's eager to get home. I just want to make sure you're up to speed with everything," Carlisle said, ripping off a few pieces of paper and handing them to me.

"What's this?"

"This is the medication I am prescribing him," Carlisle paused as my eyes widened at the sight of them. "I know it's overwhelming, but these will help with the symptoms. He's got one for high blood pressure, cholesterol, and anemia. He'll take all three in the morning and then the blood pressure again at night. He should eat in the morning when he is taking them to avoid feeling nauseous. They will make him drowsy, so no driving. I'm also prescribing a very low dosage of pain pills, you will need to watch his intake."

"I heard that," Charlie growled.

"This is … A lot," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Which is why I have already emailed you the instructions," Carlisle smiled warmly. "But, above all else, he needs to stop drinking. Immediately. I am confident that we can slow this disease down, but it has to end now. Did you hear that, Charlie?" Carlisle asked as Charlie mumbled, waving his hand in understanding. "Do whatever you can."

"I'll try."

When Carlisle left, Charlie had nearly jumped at the chance to leave, despite having to do so in a wheelchair. When we left the hospital, I had stopped at the drug store, picking up Charlie's prescriptions. The pharmacist had walked me through the same steps Carlisle did, but it didn't seem to ease my anxiety. A part of me felt as if all of this was useless. I knew, just as much as Carlisle did, that I couldn't force the bottle out of his hand. I had attempted that once before, and I had been defeated. Not even the threat of death could keep Charlie away from what he wanted.

When the pharmacist had finished, I found myself stalling in the aisles. I had looked at my phone, but I had no missed messages. I hesitated on calling Edward, knowing he was dealing with just as much stress as I was and I didn't want to complicate things. When I finally felt the strength to leave, I made my way back to the car, the drive back home silent.

It wasn't even five minutes into walking into the house that Charlie was already twisting off the cap of his whiskey bottle. I tried to ignore him, taking my time stacking the blood pressure and cholesterol medicine at the top cabinet. I held onto the pain pills, counting the amount inside, before I shoved them into my bag. If there was one thing I had control over, it was keeping him away from those.

Charlie had made his way into the living room, dug into his recliner, and watching sports highlights with his bottle tucked gently at his side. I followed, shaking my head at the sight of him.

"I'm guessing a heart to heart isn't going to change anything?" I questioned, sitting down on the arm of the couch as Charlie side-eyed me before focusing his attention back to the TV. I let out a breath, picking at a loose string from my jeans. "I don't want to waste my time helping if it means nothing."

"I know, my liver is kicking out, and I have a few months, tops," He said flatly, the words twisting my stomach. "I think it's pretty clear where things stand right now. How you feel and how I feel about this whole thing … Why do we need to pick at the scab?"

I knew he was right. It was useless for me to continue to try to change him. My actions before had proven to be worthless, from trying to save the house, trying to help him stop drinking, even our blowout the other night amounted to nothing. He didn't change, he wouldn't change. And a diagnosis as severe as liver disease wasn't going to change his mind either. He took a swig from his whiskey bottle, his lips twitching at the taste as he leaned further back into the recliner. I stood from the arm, moving around to place myself on the cushions as I ran my fingers through my hair, pushing it back and out of my face. Charlie continued to avoid me, whether it be from guilt or the chance to evade an argument. His arms were crossed over his chest, the bottle tucked protectively in the nook of his elbow as if he were prepared to fight for it.

"Don't you think it's weird that everything sort of happened how it did?" I asked as he looked at me, confused. "I mean, Mom died, which caused a ripple effect. I came here, just at the same time you were about to lose the house, and be diagnosed with liver disease."

"What are you rattling on about?"

"It's just strange is all."

"God's got a twisted sense of humor," He snorted, taking another drink. I pressed my lips together, watching him before continuing.

"I had this thought – what would have happened if you died a few months ago, before Mom did? For the same reason? I just wonder if it would make me more cautious of what she was doing." Charlie's mustache twitched, his eyes swiveling to mine as he cleared his throat, adjusting in the recliner as if he were uncomfortable.

"Shit happens, Bells. Don't waste time mulling over the what if's. It is what it is. It happened like it did and there's nothing we can do about it besides move on."

"Can't move on if you're dead," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"Well, if I'm going to die, I want to do it my way."

"Charlie short-cut Swan," I said as he lifted his bottle in acknowledgment, drinking again. "You really aren't going to stop."

"You are realizing that now?" He asked.

"No," I paused, shaking my head. "I've always known, it's just different seeing it happen … watching as that bottle kills you." I said as Charlie froze, his eyes casting away as if for a moment he was ashamed. He cleared his throat, ignoring my comment as he watched the TV, pretending as if I weren't here. "I think if you died first, Mom wouldn't have," I said confidently, just as a look of panic flashed across his face. "I would have saved her, and she would have let me."

Still, he had no response. Instead, I stood and left him in the room by himself as I made my way out the front door. The cold air came as a relief as I leaned myself against the railing, willing myself not to break down. I knew I wasn't processing everything the way I should be. My need to help, to take care and provide was still outweighing the truth that was flashing across my face. Charlie didn't want help. He didn't care what happened to him, didn't care how it would make the people around him feel, including me. The sooner I accepted it, the sooner I could move on.

The rain had started, but I sat down on the top step, deep in my thoughts. I didn't want to go back in if I could help it, but I knew I couldn't be away from Charlie tonight. I stayed in my spot until the crunch of gravel pulled me out of my head, my chin tilting to see Edward pulling into the driveway. I watched as he closed the car door behind him, shrugging his jacket closer to his head to protect from the rain as he made his way to the safety of the path leading to the porch that was covered by the shade of the oak tree. He looked up from under his baseball cap, his body stilling as he noticed me sitting on the steps. I leaned my head to rest against the railing of the stairs, sparing him a half smile. He reflected it, his eyes looking worn from what I anticipated was from the day he had experienced, especially since our morning ended so abruptly. He made his way closer, looking as if he were to sit but hesitating, as if he were waiting for confirmation. I patted the spot next to me, the heat radiating his body, warming me from the bitter cold.

"How long have you been out here?" He asked, adjusting his hat.

I shrugged at his question, looking out to the rain. "It doesn't rain much in Phoenix. It's one of the few things I missed when we left. Mom even got me a CD of rain noises to help me sleep at night. But as I got used to the heat, the less I missed it," I finished, looking over at him. He nodded, his elbows resting on his knees as he watched the pavement in front of us. "When I first came back, I thought I hated it. But I think it's growing on me again."

"When my dad moved us to Forks, I missed the sounds of cars constantly driving past my window," He shrugged, still avoiding my eyes. "Funny how shit like that can stick with us. Even something as trivial as a sound." His tone was hard, his lips pressed together as I watched him exhale deeply as if he had been holding his breath.

"Rough day?" I asked he laughed in response, easing the tension. "You know I'm not mad, right? She needed you."

"I know," He nodded, finally turning to look at me. His eyes were red from stress but softened when he faced me. I smiled again, reaching out to grab his hand, squeezing it tightly.

"What happened?"

He squared his shoulders, pulling away as if the topic made him hard, uneasy. He pulled off his cap and rushed his fingers through his hair as his head hung low. He set the cap back on before rubbing his face, shaking his head. "She has people after her, people she ripped off in the past, hasn't paid debts to. It's a lot of fucking money. Too much money."

"Did you…?"

"No," He shook his head. "I mean, _yes_. I gave her money, but not for that. Her family is wealthy, but they won't help her unless she gets clean."

"You paid for her rehab," I said as he turned to me.

"I did," He paused, gauging my reaction. "For a discounted price thanks to Carlisle and his connections. I could have given her the money she owed, but I felt this was a better option. I wired it directly to the center, so she has no choice but to go through with it if she wants to get these people off her back."

"And if she can't?"

"There is no can't. It's all about willpower. I know I run the risk of that money being used for nothing, but at least I can make my peace with it. At least I knew I didn't hand her the cash, _hoping_ she'd pay off her debts," He stopped, rubbing his palms against his knees as he cleared his throat. "I told her that after this, I can't help her anymore."

"Was she upset?" I asked.

"Yes. But she didn't throw her normal tantrum," He looked back to me as I nodded, remembering the times I encountered an angry Tanya. Once on the street and the other hidden in a bathroom. "I think seeing you made her realize you meant more to me than she ever did. And I know she didn't like it, but she was appreciative of the help."

"She still has feelings for you," I mused as he nodded his head.

"I made it clear that I don't have any for her. I told her I want her to be happy and I want her to get better, but she would have to do it without me. I can't keep harboring this guilt over her and what I did," He whispered, shaking his head. "I spent the rest of the day moving money around, going to the bank, and talking with the rehab center in Oregon."

"And the guy who was with her? Her drug dealer, right?"

"James," Edward bit, going rigid. "He was a guy we hung out with at a club called Eclipse. It's where everything started. I cut him out when I started to go clean, and she got with him when I left." He shrugged, "If she doesn't get clean, then they will get dragged down together, and I don't want any part of it, I refuse."

"Where did they go?"

"On their way to Oregon. She starts her treatment tomorrow."

"Are you okay?" I asked, reaching over to press my hand to his shoulder. He relaxed at my touch, his body opening as he turned, scooting himself closer as our legs touched.

"It's been a long fucking day," A weak laugh left his lips as he grabbed my hand, intertwining my fingers to bring them up for a kiss. I brushed his wild hair out of his eyes with my free hand, watching as he smiled. It was by no means his normal smile, but he was trying. I felt the tension in him, and I wanted to help him in any way I could. He was so selfless, helping someone who may have not deserved it, but did it anyway out of the goodness in him. I couldn't help but love him just a bit more, the words almost tumbling out of my mouth at that second. My arm dropped, my hand resting on top of our clasped palms as I inched closer, interrupted moments later as the door opened.

"Bells, oh – didn't realize we had company. Edward," Charlie hesitated as we both looked, a bottle of whiskey hanging from his two fingers.

"Charlie," Edward responding, glancing down at the bottle.

"What's up, Charlie?" I asked, standing from my spot.

"I'm heading to bed, hoping you will help me with this goddamn pain so I can actually get some shut-eye," His voice was gruff, his eyes bloodshot as he rubbed them. I nodded and moved inside to grab my bag, which contained Charlie's pain prescription. Charlie stood by the end of the kitchen table, Edward joining at the doorway. I held the bottle out to him only to abruptly seize them back.

"Give me the bottle," I said pointedly as he rolled his eyes. "You are not washing these down with alcohol. Pick your poison," I could see Edward's smirk from the corner of my eye as Charlie put down the bottle of whiskey, raising his hands in surrender as I threw him the pills. Charlie dumped two pills into his palm before throwing the bottle back to me. He turned, moving past Edward and up towards the stairs. "Goodnight," I said as he grumbled his goodbyes.

I sunk down on a kitchen chair, rubbing at my temples as I heard footsteps, the legs of a chair scraping against the floor as a hand rested on my thigh. I dropped my arms, looking at Edward who gave me a half-hearted smile. Despite everything that happened with Tanya and Charlie, it was as if we were both being dragged under a copious amount of stress, the only release coming our way was when we were together.

"Rough day?" He asked, repeating my earlier words. I managed a grin, nodding my head. "I suppose you don't want to leave him tonight?" He questioned as I scrunched my nose, shaking my head. "Then I guess I'm staying here."

"Here?" I almost laughed.

"Why not?"

"With Charlie?"

"I won't be sleeping in his bed with him," He said coyly as I rolled my eyes.

"I've got a twin upstairs, and it's over twenty years old. You'd take that over your memory foam king in your bachelor pad?"

"I just want to be with you, if you'll have me." His voice dropped, as if he were anticipating I would rush him out the door. Instead, I felt overwhelmed with that same emotion I had felt last night, my feelings for him electrifying every nerve to the point where I felt as if I were buzzing. He was willing to sacrifice a good night's sleep just to be with me because he knew just as well as I did that when we were with each other, it was our calm.

I gripped his hand, standing from my seat and walked us from the kitchen into the foyer as we quietly made our way up the creaking stairs. Charlie's snore had already echoed through the hallway, and I escorted Edward to the last door on the right, opening it up and stepping inside. A goofy smile appeared on his lips the minute I flipped on the light, the purple walls covered with flowers coming to life.

"He hasn't changed it since I've left," I explained as I closed the door behind us.

"I like it," He smirked.

"Shut up," I pushed his elbow as he smiled back at me, his eyes wandering around the bedroom. I made the way to my bed, sitting at the end of it as he explored, picking up little things like the Raggedy Ann doll and the Princess snow globe on the white dresser.

"I don't think I pegged you as the doll type," He mused, looking at the toy chest that was filled with stuffed animals and Barbies.

"A lot has changed," I said as he snorted, looking back to me with a smile. "Don't act like you weren't one of those boys who liked Hot Wheels and Legos."

"I was actually a Nintendo kid."

"That's even worse," I laughed as he shot a glare to me, continuing his search. He went on for several minutes as I watched, feeling the weight of the day dwindling down. I had hoped that the events with Tanya were the last, but I knew there were still questions that remained unanswered. Edward had told me once he was an open book, he would answer anything, and I felt those questions burning in my throat. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," He said, still distracted.

"Whose Maggie?" I asked as Edward froze, his demeanor suddenly changing. He looked back to me, his brows furrowed as if he didn't understand my question. "The day I was in the bathroom when Tanya came in, I heard you two arguing about someone named Maggie," I hesitated, feeling as if I had entered a minefield.

Edward had turned, leaning against the dresser as his face contorted with a sadness that I hadn't seen before, not even when he was talking about his parents. Suddenly, I felt stupid for bringing it up, but my curiosity didn't want me to let it go. So, I waited. He was silent for a few moments as if he were trying to puzzle together what he was going to say. His lips almost pouted, his eyes closing before he took in a large inhale, exhaling from his nose.

"Maggie is my … Daughter," He breathed, avoiding my gaze.

 _Daughter?_

My mind was racing, my heart beating to the point where I could feel it in my throat. He had never mentioned her before, never even suggested he had a child. Why had he not told me? And, where is she? Why had I never met her? As the questions unloaded, they couldn't make it to my lips. My silence was met with a groan, his hands scrubbing at his face. "She _was_ my daughter," He corrected as I watched him pinch the bridge of his nose, holding in his breath. "She was an accident, it wasn't planned. I was barely in my twenties, and Tanya got pregnant. It was a dark period in my life, Bella. We didn't know what to do, all we wanted was to get high and drink, but when we found out, it helped us. She helped us." He paused, a slight smile appearing.

"I … had no idea," I said.

"it's just … Not an easy thing to talk about," He responded, his voice low. It had made sense now why Tanya was so emotionally attached, why it was hard for her to let go. Edward cleared his throat, his voice weakened as he tried to continue the story but hesitated at the memories. "We knew we couldn't keep her, we knew we weren't capable of raising a kid, when we couldn't even look after ourselves. So, we were going to give her up for adoption. We even got clean for a while, had a couple lined up and everything. I got a job working at the fish market, Carlisle and Esme even helped us out a few times. I thought if I could do it, Tanya could do too. But I was fucking wrong. It wasn't even four months before she started using again and I didn't even see it. I should have seen it, but I didn't."

I watched as Edward went silent, his bottom lip trembling. I knew at that moment why he never talked about this. It was ripping him open from the inside out. I felt immediately regret, my own emotions choking up in my throat as I could sense where the story was turning. I was across the room in a second, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing us flush together.

"I'm sorry, you don't have to say more," I whispered, clutching onto his shirt. I felt his nose against my shoulder, his body convulsing as he shook his head, his arms dangling at his side as he refused to hold on to me.

"I was too late. I couldn't stop her," He shivered as I gripped on tighter, almost tethering him to me.

"It's not your fault," I told him as I finally felt a response in his body, his arms circling around my waist as he nodded. I pulled my head away, grabbing at his face and feeling the wetness on his cheeks. _He was crying_. The sight of it broke my heart, my fingers smoothing away his crimson hair so I could see his eyes.

"It took me a long time to realize that, but it still hurts," He admitted as I nodded. "When Tanya lost her, I went on a binge. I was reckless and destructive. I got thrown in a jail cell, and that's when Carlisle told me he was giving up me. And, after losing my father and Maggie, I couldn't lose him. That's when I got clean," He grabbed my hands, pulling them away from his face. "I don't want you to think I was hiding her from you. It's hard for me to talk about."

"It's okay. I'm not angry at you," I said as his emerald eyes turned sad, his hand lifting to graze my hair, strands running through his fingers.

"You're so forgiving, even when you shouldn't be," He whispered as I furrowed my brows.

"You didn't purposely not tell me, Edward. There is nothing _you_ did that I have to forgive," I told him as his eyes darkened, his lips pressing together as if he was holding back words. He looked down immediately, letting out a sharp breath as he shook his head.

"What is it?" I breathed.

"Nothing," He said, bringing his head back up, staring over my shoulder. "It's just been a long fucking day," He finished as I nodded in agreement. There was a silent, mutual understanding that it was time for bed. The emotional baggage carried today had weakened our bones; our minds stripped of any energy that even the small, twin bed seemed inviting. I pushed off my jeans, stripping to nothing but my shirt and underwear as Edward stayed clothed. The lights had turned off, the bed creaking as we both climbed in, finding a suitable position, finally settling with him on his back with me tucked into his side. We sighed in contentment, finally feeling the rest we had been craving since the moment we opened our eyes.

"Thank you for staying with me," I whispered, my chin brushing against his shirt as I looked up to him in the darkness. I could make out his form, his lips curling in a tired smile. "And thank you for being honest," I reached forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, his eyes watching me.

"Thank _you_ for staying with _me_ ," He whispered, his words holding a different meaning. And even in the darkness, I could make out the greenness of his eyes, the goodness inside of them. Despite what he had told me tonight, my feelings had not changed. In fact, it made me feel more. I didn't want him to be ashamed of what he did years ago, just as I knew he wouldn't want me to be. Tanya would always be a part of his past, but sending her off today, and severing ties, only ensured me his feeling for me were true. He didn't want that life anymore. He wanted me. And I was finally getting that feeling of being wanted again. And it was a feeling I hoped I never lost. Especially with him.

"I love you," I breathed, the words tumbling out with no reservations. I could see the glimmer in his eyes, the surprise that quickly melted into a realization of his own, like a snapshot out of time. I was lost in him, and that one look shared said it all. I felt him move, his lips pressing to mine within mere seconds, his hand coming to my cheek to cradle it, the passion consuming me to my very core, the need to mold myself to him becoming overwhelming just so I could keep us here in this moment forever.

And when he pulled away, he looked at me with a gaze that I had never seen before. It was as if he was revealed relieved and shocked all at the same time. The bond that had been invisible until that moment became glaringly obvious. I couldn't take my eyes off him, hanging onto this moment just as his face softened and his lips parted.

"I think I've loved you since the day I met you."

* * *

 _AN: Strap in, kids. We've got about five chapters and an epilogue left!_

 _First off, I am so sorry this is so late. I am wrapping up my associates so I have been caught up in homework and midterms._

 _Thank you to everyone who continues to favorite, follow and review. You are truly my inspiration._

 _Thank you to my Beta, Fran! She is so amazing!_

 _As always, let me know what you think, any guesses on what you may think will happen. I love your theories!_

 _See you next time!_

 _\- ii_


	19. Before

_Chapter Song - Anchor by Novo Amor_

 _"And I hear your ship is comin' in_  
 _Your tears a sea for me to swim_  
 _And I hear a storm is comin' in_  
 _My dear is it all we've ever been?"_

* * *

My eyes blinked open, squinting at the sun that filtered behind the purple curtains, coating my childhood bedroom a deep mauve. Despite the warmth of the sun, I felt cold, my hand reaching out to the body next to me only to find an empty space. I turned my head, my eyes fixating on the spot next to me. Slowly, I sat up, running my fingers through my knotty hair as I blinked the sleep away, rubbing it from my eyes. I pieced together the night, before I had fallened asleep, the tears that stained my eyes as I held Edward, our declaration to each other repeating itself like a mantra in my head. My breath hitched at the thought of it, at the sound of him telling me he loved me. It felt foreign, but welcomed. I wasn't sure if I was ever going to get used to it.

After our realization, he told me more about Maggie while I shared more about my mother. We were open and honest, showing our scars and how they molded us. I understood more why he was the way he was; the way he carried himself and tried his best to be open with people. Through and through, he was a giver. He wanted to help when he could, wanted to share his experiences to guide those who struggled. And he understood why I was so closed off, why it took longer for me to be vulnerable in front of others.

We filled each other where the other lacked, which made us right.

I laid for another few minutes, basking in the warmth just until I threw my feet over the side of the bed, noticing my hair in the mirror on my dresser. I cringed at the sight, brushing it back with my fingers to tighten it into a ponytail. I stood, swiping my palms down my shirt just as I moved towards the door, it cracked open. I could hear voices from a distance, my feet halting as my fingers curled around the edge of the wood, pulling the door wide.

There was a voice, deep and muffled, followed by another as I stepped out quietly, leaning myself against the wall, minding the pictures that hung there. I recognized both voices, my curiosity piquing at what they were conversing about so early in the morning. I had forgotten that before my return to Forks, the two of them actually had some type of relationship. Edward made it seem as if Charlie used him as guidance, but it looked as if when I showed up, I severed whatever tie that had bound them together.

Now, Charlie barely acknowledged Edward, the polar opposite of what I had imagined based off what Edward told me. I had wondered since our relationship became more serious if they were willing to try to form that bond once again.

I eased my way down, my right foot treading on the first step slowly, careful as not to hit the wrong spot to entice a noise and blow my cover. I moved quietly, soon enough their words becoming easier to make out. A chair moved, an offer of coffee from Charlie as it went silent again.

"This coffee tastes like shit," Edward coughed.

"Can barely taste it," Charlie responded as it went quiet before he spoke. "Don't you miss it? Even just a little bit?"

"Not enough to make me want it."

"That's a shame."

"Not really. I mean, yeah, sometimes I crave it. Usually when something pisses me off. But it's not enough to make me relapse. Not when I worked so hard to stop," Edward finished.

"Well, I guess you're a better man than me."

"It's not a competition, Charlie. You can still quit," Edward said as Charlie chuckled. "You've got the support you told me you didn't have months ago."

"You know why I can't," Charlie deadpanned. "Exactly because of that."

"It's time to clear your conscience; enough is enough. You said weeks ago you were going to talk –"

"It's none of your business, Edward," Charlie's voice was hushed, "I told you I would do it and I will. This doesn't have anything to do with you."

"It has _everything_ to do with me, especially now," I heard Edward growl under his breath just as my foot hit the next stair, it creaking to life as I grimaced with annoyance. "Bella?" Edward called as I let out a quick exhale, walking down the rest of the flight.

Edward and Charlie were at the small kitchen table, both with mugs in their hand as a pot of coffee sat in the middle, a whiskey bottle close to Charlie. The sight of it was – odd. It seemed whatever relationship they had in the past disconnected the moment I arrived, and I couldn't help but wonder if I had anything to do with it.

"What's going on?" I asked just as Edward looked to Charlie, expecting him to answer. Charlie cleared his throat, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders as if to brush off the conversation they were having.

"Nothin'," Charlie said, "Just having a fatherly talk with Edward here," Charlie grinned as he clasped Edward's shoulder who spared me a tight smile. "Coffee?" He offered as I nodded, grabbing a mug from the cabinet. I sat at the chair next to Edward, opposite of Charlie as we all sat and sipped. Whatever conversation they were having, seemed to cease immediately as Charlie hid behind his mug, taking large gulps. Eager to avoid a confrontation, I made a mental note to myself to ask Edward about it later.

"Well," Charlie began, exhaling deeply to show his uneasiness as he scratched his five A.M. shadow roughly, just as Edward and I stole a glance, hiding our smiles "I think I need a bit more alcohol for this," He reached for his whiskey, tipping it into his coffee as I glared at him. He sat back in his seat, his knee bouncing underneath the table as his foot patted against the floor. His discomfort was clear.

"You can go," I said.

"Thank you," He quickly stood, walking out of the kitchen and making a beeline to the living room. I stifled a laughing, shaking my head as I turned to Edward. I eased my elbows onto the table, leaning forward as he mimicked me, our lips connecting for a brief kiss.

"Thank you for staying with me last night," I whispered, reaching for his hand, lacing our fingers.

"Of course. But, I vote we stay at my place tonight," He said as I scrunched my nose, nodding my head. "My back kills."

"We'll stay at yours," I laughed, pecking his lips once again. "Do you want to stay for breakfast?"

"Tempting, but, I can't. I have to get to the bar and do some paperwork," He said, standing just before pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

"Okay, I'll walk you out?" I asked, and he nod. We walked out the front door together, hands clasped as we reached his car. He released my palm, standing in front of me as he watched carefully, my expression masking confusion. He seemed to have something on his mind, but before I had the chance to ask, he cleared his throat to speak.

"What do you think about California?" Edward asked as I raised a brow, watching as he leaned up against his car, hands shoved into his jean pockets.

"California?" I questioned.

"Yeah. The San Francisco area."

"I haven't thought about it," I said, "Why?"

He shrugged, his shoulders squaring as he dug his fingers into his hair. I could tell something was unnerving him, the way the lines on his forehead creased when he was contemplating, his green eyes hesitating. When I had first met Edward, he had a brazenness about him to a point where it was mind-numbing. I remember wondering if he ever had moments of confliction, and since our relationship, I see it more frequently. It's as if it is his subtle way to let me in, past the façade he puts out in this town.

"Carlisle caught up with one of his old friends who is a professor at the university there. He told him what I started in Seattle, the goals I had with at-risk teenagers. And," Edward paused, watching me carefully, "He wants me to apply for the program to finish my degree."

" _Seriously?_ " I burst, my lips immediately turning into a wide grin I couldn't conceal. Edward tried to act calm but reflected my smile within seconds as he nodded. "That's… Amazing! How long have you known about this?"

"A few days," He shrugged.

"And you're just now telling me?" I accused, pushing his shoulder.

"I was going to, but with everything that happened to Charlie, I didn't think it was the right time," Edward said, straightening himself in front of me. "The other night, we talked about leaving Forks and Phoenix behind and starting new. I want to finish my degree, I want to do something useful instead of just opening and closing a bar. But…"

"But?"

"None of that matters if I'm not with you," He confessed as I felt a lump in my throat. His eyes were gleaming, hopeful, and I responded to them willingly, but still with slight hesitation.

"What are you asking?"

"Come with me," He breathed, pushing my hair back, cupping my cheeks.

"Edward," I laughed, watching as his expression stayed still. "You're serious?"

"Why not? I'm going to start somewhere else, out of this goddamn state. And I know you want that too," He confided, dropping his palms to grab my own. I felt my breath hitch, my lips trembling as he brought my hand to his mouth, kissing my knuckles as his eyes didn't leave mine. "I want you with me. I didn't think I would ever say that to anyone," He said, laughing. "I always thought I'd do this alone. But I don't want to anymore."

"What about your family?"

"They'll support me. It's just a plane ride for visits."

"What about Charlie?"

Edward was quiet, letting go of my hands as he brushed strands of brown from my face, sparing me a smile. "I can't force you to leave him. And I don't want you to if you don't think it's right. But I don't want you to stay here because you think you owe him something. You don't."

Even when he knew I was giving him an excuse, his words were still calm, patient. Not even I believed that Charlie could make me stay. It was abundantly clear where his loyalty lies. I tried so hard to help him ... gave him everything when I received nothing in return. The thought of it made me reflect back to when I was a kid, dragging him in the house and out of the cold. I remembered the look on his face as Mom packed me in the car, the bottle still in his hand. Me leaving the first time wasn't enough for him to quit, so, what would the second time matter? I reflected on the letters I received once a year for my birthday or even his reaction to the news of Mom's death, and of him drunk on mouthwash, even him screaming at me in this very same driveway. And despite my attempts or the diagnosis given by Carlisle, he wouldn't change.

So, what was I waiting for?

The thought of staying in this town without the man in front of me made everything seem cold. The thought of going back to Phoenix where Phil and Gran waited in the house where my mother overdosed, made my skin crawl. Everything seemed tainted, inhabitable, and ruined. Nowhere in my past felt like home anymore. The only home I had felt in the months since my mother's death was whenever I was with Edward. It begs the question as to why I was resisting, why I was still going back and forth with myself to give him the answer I already knew the answer to.

And through my self-doubt and questions, I could hear my mother's voice crystal clear.

 _Don't think, Bella. Just do._

I closed the gap between us, reaching for his jacket to pull him towards me as our lips pressed together, my arms wrapping around his neck as I felt myself being lifted from the ground. Edward held me close, his smile infectious as my laughter broke our kiss, his eyes promising a future I hadn't seen or felt since my mother had passed. My feet touched the ground as a few more kisses pecked across my face, his hands holding onto my waist as he brought me closer.

"I love you," He told me, no hesitation in his voice. I could feel my heart in my throat, my chest nearly imploding at his words ... ones I thought I would never again hear. I willed the tears away that threatened to escape, the moment of realness between us making me feel human. It was as if the shattered pieces my mother had left behind were turned into a beautiful mosaic by Edward.

"I love you."

xx

As the middle of November was nearing, the red and orange leaves on the trees began to crisp, the wind plucking them from branches as they coated the streets. The weather became unbearably cold, so cold that at one point the rain turned into a small flurry, dusting the town. But despite the cold, there was a warmth not even the weather could ruin. The mood I had been wrapped up in for the past three weeks with Edward brought me so much ease. We were in our own little bubble together, filled with comfort, and a love I thought I would never be lucky enough to experience. Edward's proposition of moving had become an occurring topic between us as we started to plan to uproot ourselves from Forks all the way to San Francisco.

Edward had applied for his program at the University as I searched for jobs in publishing, even as far as doing a few phone interviews to get my name out there. We spent time looking online for apartments and even began to plan a quick trip out to the area. I felt the excitement and nerves twisting inside of me at the prospect of starting a new chapter of my life with him while closing the pain of my mom and dad behind me. It was almost unbelievable.

I felt I had been changed by living in Forks. I wasn't the same girl who drove in here months ago. Once calculated and steady, I was getting ready to make the biggest leap of faith I could. It was something I would have never considered months ago, but one I was now eager to try. I kept reminding myself, especially when I felt any doubt, that I needed to listen to my instincts and not my brain. I could hear my mother's voice over and over, the way she lived her life, so carefree, made me want to try doing the same. And on top of it all, the fact I was able to do it with a man who made me feel like I was the most powerful force on Earth was exhilarating. He was positive and uplifting, loving, and reassuring. And despite my faults, he reminded me every day how good I was for him.

I never thought I be would here, never imagined this is how my drive to Forks would pan out. But I knew I shouldn't question a good thing, especially one that made me feel hopeful.

Even my time spent with Charlie seemed to be lighter. After his trip to the hospital and my realization that even in the face of death, he would still choose alcohol, I could see a change in him. I wasn't certain if it was the fear of dying or if he was trying to appease me, but I noticed it now took him longer to finish a bottle of whiskey. He would open a new bottle in the morning and not finish it until the very end of the night. Usually, he could make his way through two by the time the sun had set. I was unsure if he was just waiting for when I wasn't around or if he actually wanted to try and avoid the progression of his disease, but either way, I was grateful.

When I brought it up to him, he avoided the subject, shrugging his shoulders and muttering an excuse under his breath. And even though he didn't quit completely, something I don't think he ever could, at least he was trying.

The sun began to fall just beyond the tree line as I finished the dishes in the kitchen, the weather dreary with rain as it hit on the rooftop. I could hear the rerun of a baseball game from the kitchen as I dried off the last bowl, lifting it up and into the cabinet. I checked the time on the stovetop, grabbing ahold of a prescription bottle as I dispensed a pill into my hand.

"Well, that's a goddamn foul!" Charlie shouted to the TV before aggressively turning the channel. I stood in the entryway of the dining room, watching as he settled on sports highlights, his whiskey bottle finding its way from his mouth to the corner of his elbow. He hadn't seen me, doing a double-take once he realized I was there. He mumbled under his breath, situating himself in the recliner as he looks up at the screen. "Already?"

"Yep," I said, handing him his pill and the glass of water from the side table. As he moved to grab it, I could see his face grimacing, my eyebrows furrowing at his expression. "You okay?" I asked as he nodded, taking the pill and swallowing it down with his water.

"Just some pain in my side, nothing the whiskey can't fix," He assured.

"I should call Carlisle."

"No, don't do that," Charlie groaned, shaking his head. "We don't have to call the doc every time I stub a toe."

"All right, fine," I said in surrender, sitting myself down on the arm of the couch. "But you need to tell me if it gets worse."

"Yeah, yeah," He said, focusing his attention back on the screen. I stayed still, watching as he took a sip of his whiskey from the very same bottle he had been drinking from since yesterday. I made a mental note to myself that the last time it took him over a day to finish a bottle was before he was considered an alcoholic.

The idea of leaving him didn't stray away from my mind despite the eagerness I had to leave this town with Edward. The thought of what would happen to Charlie after I was gone, haunted me. What if he was slowing down because of me? And if I left, would he go back to drinking multiple bottles in a day? How long would it be until his liver couldn't take anymore?

In these moments, I reminded myself I couldn't stay for him. I couldn't put my life on hold for him. All I could do was hope he would understand.

"You going to Cullen's tonight?" He asked, snapping me out of my trance.

"I'm going to Masen's to meet him after AA," I said as he nodded. "I just wanted to make sure you took your medicine."

"You don't need to look after me, Bells," He groaned, shuffling in his chair. "I can take care of myself, been doing it for years."

"I know," I said, the words burning in my throat. The conversation was meaningless to him, and he lost interest quickly, leaving me watching him. I forced myself up from the couch, touching his shoulder for a small moment as I passed. I reached the foyer, grabbing my bag as I slung it over my shoulder, looking back to him. "I'll be back tomorrow morning."

"All right," He said from the living room, waving me off.

Masen's was crowded, the smell of beer heightened as locals posted around the tables, others shooting pool as they laughed and sang along to the music over the stereo. I found myself at the bar with both my journal and laptop in front of me, my earphones drowning out the chattering as I wrote down a few thoughts I had swirling in my head. My pen was like rapid fire against the paper, the ink smudging against my skin as I continued. I found myself writing about my parents and my memories of living in this town as a little girl. I wrote a sentence or two on my mother and nearly a paragraph about my father, feeling my shoulders ease with every word inscribed.

I wasn't sure what compelled me to write, but the more I did, the freer I felt.

"Another cup?" Jasper asked, handing me a new mug filled to the brim with coffee. I smiled as a thank you, sliding my empty cup in his direction. While reaching for the mug, he peered over to my laptop, getting a quick peak, "Jobs in San Francisco? You finally leaving Forks?"

"Thinking about it," I said.

Jasper grabbed ahold of a white cloth, throwing it over his shoulder as he began rinsing out glasses in the sink. "Funny thing," He paused as he began to rack them up on the drying mat. "Edward was mentioning San Francisco just earlier today."

"You don't say," I said coyly, resting my chin in my palm. Jasper only smiled, turning back to his duty as I continued my search for publishing jobs. The response was overwhelming. It was a booming industry not unknown to the city. But, I knew I was particular about my choices. I wanted to find a publisher that still allowed the creativity of original work to be produced, someone who would give me time and energy to invest in my own writing if that's what I wanted to do. As I scrolled through the postings, I made sure to favorite the ones that caught my eye. I felt a tenseness in my stomach, one that didn't make me fearful. It was a welcome feeling as I tried to hide the smile between my lips, the anticipation of starting new, dawning closer to me.

"Are you writing?" Jasper asked, nodding to my journal. I tilted my chin in response, looking down at my messy handwriting, circles around sections that were powerful.

"I think so," I told him, "I'm just jotting down what I'm feeling, but I think it is turning into something else."

"That's the best type of writing," He said enthusiastically, leaning in my direction. "Getting what's in your heart to paper and then trying to make sense of it. It's where my best ideas come from. It's more powerful that way. I prefer to just write different thoughts than sticking to a script. I think better on the spot."

"I don't know what this is yet," I confided.

"That's okay. You don't have to. Just keep at it, and when it becomes a best-seller, you can thank me," Jasper smiled as I rolled my eyes, my attention focusing back to my journal.

It was much later, when the bell of the front door snapped me out of the cloud I had been surrounded by. Boys in blue began filtering into the bar, one, in particular, causing a sharp intake of breath. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, his black eyes gleaming as his friends said something to make him burst out laughing. The sight of him still made me cross, despite our years of friendship when we were just kids. The last time I saw Jacob, he was being thrown out by Edward. I figured all was forgiven on Edward's end, as Jasper didn't show any intentions of telling him to leave.

I kept my eyes on my journal, ignoring him the best I could. Jasper sensed my confliction, but I stayed in my spot, continuing my writing until I heard the conversation die down and the feeling of eyes on me. My sight swiveled up to the back of Jacob's head just as he began to turn; my eyes then darting back to my computer. He moved as I felt his presence only a few chairs down. From my peripheral, he leaned against the bar, reaching forward to shake hands with Jasper.

"What can I get you, Black?"

"A round of Bud for the boys, please."

"No problem."

The music distracted me from his gaze as I looked through a few more jobs on my computer. I could feel him getting closer, hesitating on what line he was allowed to cross until I finally heard him exhale just before clearing his throat. We made eye contact, a slight smile on my part as I tried to avoid the conversation he clearly wanted to have.

"Hey, Bella."

"Hey, Jake," I responded plainly, closing my laptop. All I needed to do was find my exit, either in the back or out the front and up to the loft.

"You doing good?" He asked as I looked up to him with a single nod. "Hey, listen," He began as he climbed a few chairs to close the gap between us. My body went stiff, my eyes zoning in as if to tell him _close enough_. He froze, getting the hint and leaving a respectable three chairs between us. "I know I already apologized, but I just wanted to say again how sorry I am for how I acted that night in here."

His voice was low, sincere. It reflected the same time he called me and apologized over the phone when Edward and I were in Port Angeles for Rosalie's event. This was just before he broke the news to me that Charlie had robbed the liquor store. Despite what happened in the past, Jake had done me a favor by calling me first and not involving the police. That wasn't something he needed to do, but did out of kindness as an apology. And whatever I had felt about him after the argument we had here at Masen's, it was clear he was trying to make an effort. I felt my shoulders relax, my head nod as I turned to look at him.

"I appreciate it, Jake."

"I don't know what came over me. You know I'm not like that," He confided, shaking his head. "If it makes you feel better, news spread through town before I even got home. Dad nearly whooped my ass like I was a teenager again," He laughed as I grinned.

"I would have paid to see that," Jasper interrupted, handing him a beer.

"I thought for a split second he was going to muster enough strength to get out of that wheelchair. Dude still scares the shit out of me, crippled or not," Jake shuddered as I snorted, "Seriously, though. I'm sorry. I promise that won't ever happen again. I deserved the bloody nose. Nice shot, by the way." We laughed together, though I knew his apology was sincere. I believed that Jacob felt remorse for what happened. Jacob, at his core, was the same innocent kid I grew up with making mud pies. While what happened was inexcusable, I knew his confession came from his heart.

"Billy _is_ pretty scary," I agreed as he let out a breath.

"I swear, I would have been dead years ago had I not been able to outrun him."

"No, he loves you," I confessed as he rolled his eyes. "And, you didn't have to call me that night when Charlie was causing problems," I admitted as he shrugged, taking a swig of his beer. "Thank you for that."

"It was the least I could do."

"You didn't get in trouble for it, did you?"

"Nah. The chief knows how Charlie is. Once I explained the situation, he was fine. Charlie doesn't really act up much in public anymore, so, we let it slide," He claimed, scratching at his jaw.

"Did he act up before?"

"Are you kidding?" Jacob balked, snorting. "Before I got on the force, I heard crazy stories about him all the time. Public intoxication, theft, even public indecency," He laughed as I cringed. "It's not as often now that he's getting older, maybe a few scraps here and there, but nothing out of character," Jacob said, taking another drink before raising his finger. "Except for that one time out of state a couple of months ago."

My smile faltered, my brows furrowing in confusion at his comment, "Out of state?" I questioned. When had Charlie ever traveled out of state? I wasn't even sure if he ever went out of town, let alone leave Washington.

"Yeah," He began, "I figured you knew. Aren't you from Phoenix?"

 _Phoenix?_

I felt a ringing in my ear, and I quickly rubbed it, trying to puzzle his words together because I was so sure I didn't hear him correctly. Charlie never mentioned coming to Phoenix ... never anything to me either before, or after I arrived in Forks. So, Jacob had to be wrong. I shook my head, laughing, "He wasn't in Phoenix." I said as Jacob remained still, as if he didn't know how to respond to my statement.

"I mean, I took the call from Phoenix PD when he was arrested. And I did his paperwork when he got back. So, I'm positive he was down there."

 _This can't be. Why didn't he visit? What was he doing there?_

"When did this happen?" My words were rough as Jacob went silent, retelling the memories in his head as I felt tension throughout my body, my lips pressing together so I wouldn't demand the answer from him.

"It was a few months ago. Just before summer. Early June?"

 _Early June._

The timeline of this year scattered through my mind as I tried to place events to dates, all the way back to the day I walked into the bathroom and found my mother on the floor. I remember the American flags decorating the porch and the smell of apple pie candles, Independence Day looming just around the corner. And if Charlie had been in Phoenix early June, could he have sought out my mom?

I closed my eyes at the thought of it, picturing her downfall starting because of him. I felt a pain in the back of my neck, my fingers pressing against my temples as I let out a large exhale, "What happened?"

"Jesus, Bella, what's wrong?"

"Why was he down there?"

"I don't know," He said truthfully, "All I know is that I got a call from the local police asking about him because he was arrested for public intoxication. We didn't even know he left town. He was gone for three days until someone bailed him out."

I gripped the back of my chair, sliding off the seat as my feet touched the ground. I could hear Jacob saying my name as I turned to grab my things and tuck them under my arm. His hand had touched my shoulder, but I quickly brushed it away, stepping back from the bar. Was it possible he went to Phoenix to see her? _Why wouldn't he tell me?_ Why wouldn't he reach out to me while he was there? _What was he hiding?_

 _Did he have something to do with her death?_

I felt a tightness in my stomach, my mouth going dry as the unanswered questions gripped me. Once again, I felt Jacob's hand on my arm, his face in view as he tried to steady me.

"I have to go," I staggered, letting out a breath.

"Bella, are you okay?" Jasper asked as I shook my head, moving past the chairs and out of the bar, into the brisk November night. Rain pelted down as I walked, it drenching me from top to bottom as I found my way to my car, wrenching open the door. I fell into my seat, throwing my items in the passenger side next to me. I fumbled with my keys, my nerves burning through me like a live wire as I turned the ignition, shifting the gears as I made my way to the other side of town, towards home.

Towards him.

* * *

 _AN: Thank you to everyone who continues to favorite, follow and review. I am so in love with you! Thank you to my beta, Fran, who continues to walk this journey with me._

 _I know there are a lot of thoughts swirling in your mind. I'd love to hear them._

 _We are almost done folks, just a few chapters left. Strap in._

 _\- ii_


	20. Storm

_Chapter Song - Lung by Vancouver Sleep Clinic_

 _Can somebody help me out?  
I can't find my feet  
I'm sinking in the deep  
Can somebody pick me up?  
The voice is too loud  
I'm losing in the crowd  
Because I, can't breathe  
Oh, I can't breathe  
Because I, can't breathe  
_ _Somebody help me out_

* * *

 _July 1_ _st_

 _I would never forget how this moment made me feel._

 _I still couldn't believe it. After months and months of searching and interview after interview, I was finally employed._ _Copy Editor for the Phoenix Times_ _, it sounded and felt so right. I couldn't contain the smile that broke from my lips, even a few squeals slipped out as I tightened the grip on my steering wheel. And to top it all off – it was finally raining. The heat had subsided for now, and as I drove, I pulled down my window and let my hand move with the wind, feeling the pricks of raindrops hit my skin._

 _I still couldn't wrap my head around it._

 _I've worked so damn hard for this._

 _I slowed my car, turning onto the street as I noticed children playing in the rain, waving small American flags and stomping in puddles, feeling just as vigorous as I did. My phone was buzzing, congratulatory texts coming through from my friends and family in response to my group text. Gram had called me right away, her voice cracking as she told me how proud she was. Angela sent several messages in a row, including a stream of firework emoji's and Martini glasses to foreshadow our upcoming celebration. Even Phil had responded._

 _My mother, usually my biggest supporter, had said nothing. But despite the silence, I wouldn't even let that bring me down. If she didn't have time to check her phone, I would just tell her in person._

 _I pulled into the driveway as the rain continued to fall, the house dark beside the open garage as Phil worked on his car, the radio blasting his music as he sang along. He hadn't noticed me running across the driveway, but when he did, his face split into a smile._

" _Thank you," I sighed contently as he released me._

" _When do you start?"_

" _After the fourth."_

" _You do that joke I told you? The one with the ink?" He grinned, his eyes brightening as I nodded, even if I was lying. "Told you it was going to be a hit."_

 _Phil, the comedian. He was a light in the darkness, his temperate a stark contrast to my mother, but I guess that was why they worked. When she was up in the clouds, he was the anchor that made sure she didn't float away. Even through her moods, much like the one she was battling now, he stayed patient. My mother wasn't an easy person to handle and there were times I was afraid he would walk out on us, but he stayed faithful._

" _You worked so hard on this," He said, pulling me from my thoughts as he brushed my wet hair behind my ears. I hadn't missed the fact that on his left hand, he was missing his wedding band. "We are so proud of you."_

" _Does she know?" I asked as he spared me a smile._

" _She's been sleeping on and off all day. She thinks she's coming down with something," He told me. I had wondered if it was the same thing that had been plaguing her for the last few weeks. She had been distant, which was unlike her, even after I had moved out. I used to get phone calls several times a day just to chat, but lately, I was lucky to even get one. When I mentioned it, she had shrugged me off, skirted around my question and went radio silent once again. I didn't like feeling severed from my mom, but I knew it was only temporary, especially if she was feeling sick. "I bet this will cheer her right up, though. She should be in our room."_

 _He gave me one last pat on the back as I moved past him and into the house. The moment I hit the threshold, it was filled with the smell of apple pie, candles lit in the darkened hallway as I noticed mail piled up on the table just near the front door. The living room, usually spotless, was out of place, pillows strewn across the couch, clothes scattered across the floor and magazines scattered across the coffee table. My mother had a free soul, but one thing she was strict on was a clean house. She must really be feeling ill._

 _I moved to the bottom of the staircase, looking up into the darkness just as thunder began to moan._

" _Mom?"_

 _I was met with a silence that coated me, halting me as I felt my heart in my throat, my breathing ragged and harsh. I could feel my hands trembling as my throat went dry, a sense of panic consuming me in its grip. I wasn't used to this feeling, this anxiety._

 _Why was this happening? What was wrong?_

 _Reaching out, I gripped the cold banister and climbed, my feet pressing into every step like cement as I inched to the top. It was sweltering on the second floor, sweat beading behind my neck as the darkness of the hallway twisted my stomach in an unnatural way._

 _I moved towards my mother's room, the door cracked only slightly. I could feel the knob in my hand, but I stayed still, using my other fist to knock._

" _Mom?" My voice cracked as I was yet again met with silence._

 _With the tips of my fingers, I pushed the door open as my eyes fixated on the darkness. The bed was empty, but the pillows were thrown, the sheets hanging off the side haphazardly. My palm pressed against the wall as I tried to find the light, my sight zoning in on something clumped to the floor. I felt the switch, and flipped it as the lamp on Phil's side of the bed turned on. The other one ... on my mother's side, had fallen from the bedside table, the light now casting shadows and shining on my mother's body._

" _Mom!" I cried out, thrusting myself forward as I hit the floor with a scream, crawling towards her as her hair matted against her face. I shook my head in protest, tears clouding my eyes as she looked at me with no light, no life. Her skin was ice, my hands roaming, becoming wet from the foam that coated her lips just as I grabbed her shoulders, moving her upward. I screamed through the tears for Phil, praying he would hear me. Her arm, a ghostly white, was laying away, and clutched in her hand, an empty pill bottle. I let out an agonizing wail at the realization of the situation but still found myself on my knees, pressing my fists into her chest as I tried to remember how to bring her back._

 _1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10 and on and on._

" _No! Please!" I choked when she wasn't moving, trying again with rescue breaths. I heard steps behind me, Phil crying out as he pushed me out of the way, sending me back and against their dresser. I reached for her as Phil attempted to revive her, doing chest compressions until his arms began to tire, but his attempts were worthless. She was gone. With this, he let out an agonizing cry, screaming her name, begging her to come back. I cried with him, feeling my chest caving in on itself as an emptiness filled my heart, threatening to take over. I was losing my grip, scared of the darkness that wanted to consume me, that wanted me to face the realization that life was moving on, but my mother was not._

 _And like a scared child, I wrapped my arms around her cold legs, hoping for her protection but received nothing in return._

 _I would never forget how this moment made me feel._

xx

 _November 17_ _th_

I was frigid, numb from the storm as ice ran through my veins, seeping inside of my skin and holding me still. It reflected the feelings that were buried deep inside of me, thousands of unanswered questions holding me captive. The rain had saturated my body, my breath coming out in a mist as I stood in the foyer of my childhood home, watching the back of his head with an unknown feeling brewing inside of me like a toxin.

 _How did I get here?_

My memory failed me, the drive here nothing but an illuminated blur like light leaks in a film reel. My hair, drenched, stuck to my flushed face and cascaded around me like flimsy string. My fingers balled into fists, my nails digging into my palms as the pain didn't register, even when I broke skin.

He didn't notice me at first, mindlessly captured by the TV, but soon my arrival was announced and accompanied by a drop of air temperature with the descent of silence. The chair beneath him creaked as he moved, his head turning to peek over his shoulder as our eyes connected. Once he realized the intruder was me, he visibly relaxed, his eyes rolling as he turned his attention back to the front, not giving me a second thought.

"You forget something?" His voice was graveled, indicating his state of mind. It made me flinch, my mind coaxing me forward even when I felt motionless. I knew nothing. I had to remind myself of that. But I needed answers, I needed to prove Jacob wrong, that everything he had told me was wrong. Because it _couldn't_ be true. And even if it were, I knew I had to be missing _something_. Anything to make what happened right, to make it okay. My mind was already ten steps ahead, accusing without facts, but I felt something in my bones that told me my feelings were valid.

Charlie grabbed the remote just before the screen went black. He stretched himself, groaning in the process before kicking the recliner down, standing on his two feet with an empty bottle of whiskey between his fingers. He scratched the back of his neck, his old body cracking with every step as he turned to me.

"You gonna close the door or what?" He asked with a cocked eyebrow. I unlatched myself from my spot, pulling the door closed behind me as he nodded in satisfaction, walking to the kitchen. I followed him, lingering in the doorway as he threw his bottle away, his head turning in my direction. "I thought you said you were staying at Cullen's tonight?"

"I had to come back," My voice was low as I watched Charlie wash his hands, reaching for the hand towel that hung on the oven handle, his stare, curious.

"All right," He paused, unwilling to ask questions, sensing my tension. "Well, I'm going to head to bed." Ignoring my body language, he walked past me and through the threshold to the staircase, one foot on the first step.

"Why were you in Phoenix?" My voice was soft, barely there, but he heard me. The words left me before I had a chance to process, but I felt no regret. Soon enough, even without turning to look, I could almost feel his body running rigid, his foot faltering from the step. I turned, his face split between many emotions channeling from fear to sadness. He hadn't expected it. He was unsure of what to say, even what to do. So, he settled, easing back into his spot as he watched me cautiously. I could see his expression shifting, from confusion to shock. He caught himself and started to take control, but he had already let himself slip. And in that moment of something unknown, I was faced with a truth I had hoped was false.

"What are you talking about?" He lied, the words catching in his throat.

"Don't," I warned, shaking my head. "Do not shortcut your way out of this."

"I'm -,"

"Jacob told me. At the bar. He said you were arrested there," I began as his face contorted into the realization that he was in a situation he could not get himself out of. So, instead of facing it, he turned and walked from the foyer and into the living room. I followed, right behind his heels as my voice grew louder. "He said it was earlier in the summer, in June. Explain to me how that is possible because I was there in June and I didn't see you. And unless you know someone else besides me and…" I paused, faltering, "…Mom… Then I don't know why you would be there."

Leaning against the back of the couch, Charlie placed his palm over his mouth, smoothing it down to his chin just as all the blood drained from his face. His dark eyes cast to the floor, his lips moving silently as if he were rehearsing what he was going to say, trying make sense of the words in his head. I waited, my patience wearing thin as I stood in the doorway, feeling my throat running dry and a chill within my soul as he tried to piece together a story.

"Did you go to Phoenix?" I asked, straightforward. He avoided me, his eyes fixed on the floorboard as I stepped forward. "Tell me the truth, Charlie," I pleaded just as his eyes swiveled up. Slowly, he nodded his head, and I felt a blow deep in my gut, stealing my breath. "Were you there to see me?" I questioned as his lips turned, his body faltering as he let out a staggered breath, shaking his head. I felt the wetness in my eyes as I remained standing, but felt like I could crumble at any second. "Were you there to see her?"

He nodded his head.

" _Did_ you see her?" He was motionless for a moment, gauging his response before finally nodding once again. I took in an audible breath, feeling as if I had been kneed in the stomach. Charlie stood, concerned, but I raised my hand as if to indicate for him not to come any closer. "When?" I asked through my teeth. Charlie groaned, scrubbing his palms over his face as he looked defeated, sitting down on the coffee table.

"It was in June," He admitted, confirming my suspicions.

"Shit," I cried, my vision going dizzy as my head spun. I shook it, trying to mend myself back together as I applied pressure to my temple. "Why?"

"What?"

"Why!" I screamed as he flinched, his arm resting against his stomach as if he felt he was going to be sick. "Why did you go? Why did you see her? What happened?" My questions were rapid-fire, and he couldn't keep up, his eyes closing as he shook his head, trying to give answers. "Charlie," I said, my voice flat as he turned to look at me. " _What happened?_ "

"I was out of my mind, Bella."

"What does that even mean?"

"It's hard for me to explain," He stuttered.

"Did you give her the pills?"

"What? No!"

"Then what did you do?" I shouted, moving towards him as he stood, taking a step back only to hit the corner of the coffee table, tumbling to catch himself on the edge of the couch. He was silent, my words falling on deaf ears until I raised my voice. "What. Did. You. Do!"

"I didn't know she would relapse!" He yelled, tears forming in his eyes.

"What the hell did you do, Charlie?" I screamed, pushing his shoulders back.

"I was fucked up!" He growled, standing. "Is that what you want to hear? I was drunk and strung out and hating myself for letting her get away! Over ten years later, and I was feeling it all at once! I hit a fucking low point, and all I could think about was her! I don't even remember getting on the goddamn plane!"

I stepped back, feeling sick to my stomach as tears left the corner of his eyes, his arm dragging across his face to dry them. I watched as he was at war with himself, his foot rising to kick the table as it went diagonal, items on top of it scattering across the floor as he turned, running his fingers through his oily, peppered hair. He choked, pacing around the couch before finally letting out a defeated cry, lowering himself onto the cushions. I could feel the tears on my own cheeks, and I covered myself with my arms as a form of protection, knowing the truth would be set free here tonight. I could already feel the shift tearing apart the last of our relationship ... the one already hanging on by microscopic threads. Despite the heaviness he felt, the regret and somber in his voice, I couldn't help but watch him with hatred. Nothing he could tell me at this moment would make what happened to her okay.

His leg bounced, head hanging as he pressed his hands into the back of his neck, his knuckles going white. "I can't even piece together how I got to her. I found her through the phonebook, and when I got there, she was outside, and I just remember," He paused, inhaling sharply, replaying the memory. "I just remember how she looked at me; she was mad as hell and confused, and she was yelling at me, and I was telling her how I've gotten worse without her and I was making her feel guilty but I just couldn't stop!"

"What did you expect to happen? That she was going to leave Phil and go back to you?" I yelled, watching as he stood.

"I wasn't in the right state of mind, Bella. You wouldn't fucking understand."

"But she would! And that's why she's dead! You made her relapse!" I accused, the truth causing my heart to break, the words leaving my lips like acid. " _It was you!_ "

"I didn't mean it!" He groaned as if in physical pain. "I didn't know! I just wanted to talk to her, and she wouldn't pick up my phone calls. I didn't know what it would do to her!"

"You killed her."

"I didn't," He cried, shaking his head, standing to defend himself.

"You did!" I screamed, letting out a choking gasp, inhaling sharply. "You may not have put the pills down her throat, but you started it. It was you this whole time. And you didn't tell me. I've been here, helping you, trying to get you on your feet, trying to get you a job, saving this house, trying to save you from yourself. And all the while trying to understand why my mother left me after I was already dealing with the abandonment of my father, who was the reason why she's dead!"

Charlie wailed, a cry coming from his mouth that was so raw it even made me hesitate. He fell back down onto the couch, grabbing the arm of it as his body began to shake, the tension, regret, and ache he felt was ripping him from the inside and I could physically see it. But I was immune to it, my own grief washing over me, making me feel like I was losing my mind, clawing its way out just so I could unravel. Everything was different. Change was inevitable, and I was a victim of it, forced to adapt when all I wanted to do was hide. I stumbled back, gripping the recliner as the memories of finding my mother on the floor assaulted my brain, the feeling of her cold body against my hands, the sight of the foam covering from her lips and her glassy eyes that held no life.

How could we ever come back from this?

"I didn't want this to happen, I'm so sorry," He sobbed into his arms, shaking his head. It took me back to when I first arrived in Forks, after telling Charlie of her death. He pleaded to her, called out her name and apologized. I realized in that moment, he wasn't just saying her name in grief, but to help atone for what he had done. "I didn't know what I was doing, I didn't want her to kill herself, I just wanted her to know. I left right after that, even got fucking arrested! Fucking Christ, It's all my fault, it's all my fucking fault."

I let out a choking sob, the two of us crying in unison as I brought my hands to my face, trying to pull myself together. I began to imagine what happened between Charlie and my mother on that day he stumbled onto their property. I tried to picture her shocked when she saw him, her anger and fear, and then the feeling he left when he departed. Was it guilt that drove her to relapse? Did seeing him and realizing the state she left him in only make the pain worse for her to the point that she needed a substance to forget? Or did seeing him remind her of the high she felt when they were together? Was she so weak that one look at him would break her?

I had never felt such pain before, the realization of my mother's death was something I wasn't sure I could come to terms with. There was no coming back for Charlie. This was the last nail in the coffin.

As Charlie continued to cry, I remembered what Jacob said at the bar, how Charlie was arrested for public intoxication. That's where my parents were similar, even the slightest bit of bad news would send them in a spiral. It was like that when I was a child, it was no different as an adult. I imagined Charlie being kicked out by my mother, wandering his way to the nearest bar in Phoenix and getting himself piss drunk, which ultimately led to his arrest.

 _All I know is that I got a call from the local police asking about him because he was arrested for public intoxication. We didn't even know he left town. He was gone for three days until someone bailed him out._

Jacob's voice rang in my head, the last sentence halting me as the disloyalty from my father had made me blind to the whole story. If Charlie was arrested, who was close enough to him to bail him out?

 _No._

The answer was ingrained in my head, teasing me even when I tried to deny it. I could feel a new sickness brew, my lips pressing together as I tried to hold in a cry, feeling myself step closer to him.

 _It can't be._

"Who bailed you out?" I asked through a short breath as Charlie avoided eye contact. He didn't answer, shaking his head towards the ground as if he didn't hear me. "Charlie."

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me."

"Bella," He sighed, raising his head with a look that told me I didn't need to ask; that I already knew who it was. I covered my mouth, shaking my head as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. It was the same person who looked after Charlie when I was not around, the same person who tried to help him when he was at his worst, the same person who wanted to protect him from me when I arrived. The same person I refused to believe would withhold information, no matter what my father said. I had physically lost my breath, shaking my head as I faltered back into the chair, trying to find some sense of balance to figure out why it could not be true. "He didn't know, Bella."

"What?"

"I couldn't fly back because of my arrest. I called him, and he drove down to get me. He didn't ask questions, he didn't know why I was there," Charlie ended as if trying to give me one last strand of hope despite the wreckage he had caused in my life. I stood from my spot and watched as he looked at me, pleading for my forgiveness. But all I could see now was her, and it pained me.

It was Charlie's fault.

He did it.

And I would never forgive him.

xx

I burst through the front doors of the community center, drenched with rain from the storm outside. I was buzzing with anxiety, everything that happened in the past hour lingering on me like a parasite, sucking everything out, even when I was so desperate for this one thing to not be true.

 _Please don't let it be true._

 _Please let Charlie be lying._

I pleaded all the way here, but the more I thought about it, it all began to piece together. Still, I wanted to deny it, I wanted him to be wrong because I couldn't handle any more unfaithfulness in one night. So, I prayed Charlie was lying ... that for some reason, he was wrong. Even if my heart knew otherwise.

The sound of the door thwacking open had caught the attention of those who walked out of the main room. Based off my posture, they shied away from me as I passed, staying out of my path as I made my way through the threshold. The main room was assembled with the chairs in a circle, but nearly all were empty as AA had ended. There were a few stragglers confining in groups to talk to each other as they wrapped up. I looked desperately around the room, hoping he wasn't here so I could push this off just a little while longer, but my luck had run out.

Edward was near the bulletin board, talking to a group of people unbeknownst of my presence. I watched him smile, the feeling of it putting me at ease as I hoped once again that Charlie was just wrong. If he was strung out, it could have been anyone, right? How would he have known the difference if he didn't even remember flying to Phoenix? I tried to conjure up all of the excuses, but every time it always ended with my mother dying. And that, above all else, was giving me the courage to tackle the truth even though I knew it might kill me.

I stepped forward, moving towards him until he caught me, his head lifting as his smile immediately faltered. He excused himself from the group, all making their way towards the door as he stopped several feet in front of me, his hands reaching to grab my shoulders, the feeling of it causing a warmth I hoped would stay.

"Hey," He breathed as his presence made my eyes close, relishing this moment, "What's wrong?" He asked, his hands trailing up my neck just before cupping my cheeks. I felt the tears, the warm trails they left as they spilled down my frigid cheeks. Edward was at a loss, the lack of information unnerving him as he tried to soothe me. I shook my head and pulled his arms away as I took a step back.

"Did you know?" I cried, willing myself to calm down.

"Bella, what's wrong?" He ignored my question, trying to reach me again.

"Did you know Charlie went to Phoenix?" I questioned. Edward halted, his arms falling to his side as he watched me with a pain I felt erupt inside of me as the truth became known. "Please. Don't lie to me," I pleaded just as he tried to reach for me again, but I shook my head, letting out a wheezing breath as the people who still lingered in the room turned to us.

Edward sighed, his expression broken as his chin tilted, giving me a slight nod. "I did."

I felt it in my chest, the pain of those two words forcing me to step back as if I had been hit. It seemed unfair, really. Through all the happiness I had found that it would disintegrate around me as if it were nothing but dust. Betrayal was set deep in my bones, reminding me that no matter what, I couldn't trust anyone.

"You knew. You knew this whole time," I whimpered, feeling my body go weightless.

"If you let me explain-"

"You lied to me."

"I didn't, I swear I didn't."

"It all makes sense now," I began, retelling events in my brain that coincided with the truth. "What you guys were whispering about this morning… It was about that, wasn't it?" I asked as he began to talk, just as I cut him off, "And how you and Charlie were so close… But since I came here, he never wanted to be around us. He was scared of you. He was scared you were going to tell me."

"I didn't know why he went down there," He admitted, trying to close the gap between us. "He just said it was important that he goes, that it would help him. And then he called me from the police station, he told me the flight back home was voided because…"

"You bought his tickets?" I inhaled sharply, shaking my head.

"I did, but I didn't know it was to see her. He said he was visiting family. I didn't even know he was married until I met you!"

I was quiet for a moment, contemplating my words. Everything I knew, everything I went through in the last few months was sitting on top of this lie. It was a lie that I couldn't even fathom Charlie being a part of, let alone the man I had shared my most intimate moments with. Things began to come together, like the final piece snugged tight into the puzzle. Edward watched me with tension, his body straining as if even breathing hurt him. I could see it in his eyes, the regret within the deep moss color and I knew he meant it.

But it didn't change the past.

"My mom is dead," My voice was soft as his expressions lightened.

"He told me he was going to tell you," He replied, his voice cracking.

"But he didn't. Jacob did," I paused. "And you didn't."

"Bella -"

"You lied to me," I repeated through a broken sob, watching as his eyes glassed over.

"Bella," Edward pleaded, his face plagued with shame. "When you told me about her, I put it together. I confronted him about it when you brought him to AA, and he said he was going to tell you the truth."

"And you believed him?" I cried, watching as he shoulders fell in defeat. His trust in my father was disappointing, to the point where my sorrow turned into rage. "He went there strung out on God knows what and guilted her for leaving him. Did you know that? Did you know that's why she fucking killed herself?"

"Please, Bella," He begged as he reached for me. I stepped back, holding my hand up in warning.

"Don't touch me!" I growled, the look on his face torn from my rejection. "You knew this whole time! You knew when I told you I was from Phoenix, you knew when I told you she died from an overdose and you still hid it from me. I opened up and told you what her death did to me. All this time not knowing why she relapsed and he was a part of it! And you helped him! You saw me at my most vulnerable and yet you still lied! I can't trust you anymore!"

"I'm sorry, Bella, please. You can still trust me, I promise —"

"No," I sobbed, shaking my head, feeling my chest tighten, my lips trembling as hot tears ran down my cheeks. I placed my hand over my heart as another broken cry left me, one so painful that I didn't even know it came from me. "I can't trust anyone anymore. Not you. Not Charlie. Not anyone. Everything is different now. You are different now. You're a completely different person."

Edward's face fell and I could see the hollowness inside of him, a carving of a man who realized his mistake. "Please," He begged, his voice low as if he knew that his attempt was futile, as if he realized nothing he could say would fix the past. Everything was spoiled, the memories we created now reduced to bitterness and anything in the future, gone like dust in the wind. "I love you, Bella. _I'm sorry_."

The sadness I felt poisoned my spirit; killing off my other emotions until it was the only one that remained. The man I loved pleaded for me to forgive ... to understand his perspective, to move forward because of what we felt for each other. But to forgive would require a goodness in my heart and I wasn't sure I had that anymore. Everything felt black and gray, shadows casting over me so heavily that I couldn't feel an ounce of joy, not after what I learned. What once made me happy now made me feel weak. Watching his grief, realizing what I was going to do and what I was saying was like a knife in my heart, cutting through muscle and bone and leaving an emptiness inside.

I wish I could forget; I wish I could forgive.

But it was tainted.

Everything was ruined.

"I am too," I wept, feeling the saltiness of my tears on my lips, feeling the ache in my heart. Everything in Forks had been a lie, everything I knew was wrong. I could see it now.

This was no place for me.

"I'm leaving," I sniffed, avoiding his gaze. "And I'm not coming back. Don't follow me, Edward."

The words were like rocks on my chest, pushing me deeper and deeper until I was submerged in my own grief. His face was the hardest to look at, it contorting into a sadness I couldn't bear to see. I had to go, I couldn't look anymore. I couldn't take it. I turned within moments, quickening my pace to distance myself but every step was harder each time. I hid my sobs, covering my mouth, feeling them tumble from my lips as he called my name. I wanted to numb myself from every ounce of pain I had been faced with tonight and never see it again. I stumbled to my car, wrenching the door open and turning the ignition as I flew out of the lot and down the road until I knew I would be isolated. Parking on the side of the street, I tightened my fingers around the steering wheel, watching as my knuckles turned white.

In a flash, I could see my mother's dead body and I quickly shook my head, ridding myself of the picture. "No, no!" I shouted, the image coming back over and over again until I allowed my emotions to overtake every inch of me. I cried out, slamming myself into my seat, beating at my steering wheel to try and relieve myself from the pain. My heart was flying, my mind not far behind it until my body was too weak to continue. I sunk and wailed until my throat ran hoarse and my heart, though still beating, was now unresponsive.

I watched the raindrops fall down the glass, losing track of time and myself. It wasn't until I sat up, mindlessly turning over the ignition that I drove off the road, farther from him.

* * *

 _AN: I want to thank everyone who have favorited, followed and reviewed. You make my soul happy. Thank you to my beta, Fran! She's seriously the best._

 _I know this was a heavy chapter. If you go back and re-read, I actually hint at this a LOT (Even as early as chapter three!) but I made it very subtle. I did not want it to be obvious. I know this is super angsty, but hold on. These two aren't quite done yet._

 _Please let me know what you think, this was a tough one emotionally to write, so your thoughts are encouraged!_

 _Until next time,_

 _\- ii_


	21. Edward

_when the party's over by Billie Eilish_

 _Don't you know I'm no good for you?_  
 _I've learned to lose you, can't afford to_  
 _Tore my shirt to stop you bleedin'_  
 _But nothin' ever stops you leavin'_

 _Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own_

* * *

EPOV

I eased down and into the plush chair, feeling the wheels move on the hardwood as I steadied my elbows on the desk in front of me. My eyes felt like weights, and I scrubbed at them, willing myself to stay awake even if I was running on only an hour of sleep. I leaned back into the chair, it creaking from age as I skimmed around the room, looking at the same pictures and decor I had seen a handful of times before. Voices carried outside of the office, yelling at each other as metal clanged against metal. The smell of petroleum became second nature to me, like getting used to the smell of your own home, where you don't even register it anymore.

I hated this goddamn place.

In the office of the car shop, I reflected on how many times I've been in this very same seat, looking at the same pictures, hearing the same voices, smelling the same smells. The day may be different, but the problem was the same.

I rolled from the desk to give me enough space to hang my head, my palms running over the back of my neck to try and ease the tension that ran rampant through my body. When I closed my eyes, it was as if all my senses cut off, a dull sound, almost like white noise as I could see her in front of me, the look of pure betrayal and resentment as tears smothered her cheeks. I felt a pang of guilt wrack through me, followed by grief when watching her go. I felt it all over me; as if I was consumed by it. It had been days, but I couldn't rationalize what happened in my head, and I couldn't think straight. The lack of sleep tore up my body and soul, and I started to think of what could ease me, could just help me forget even if it was for only one damn second.

I avoided Masen's whenever I could, asking Emmett and Jasper to take over for the time being. I even went as far as giving Jasper my keys. It was just a precaution, but I knew what was happening. But that didn't stop my thoughts from straying. Even my route to the bank changed in the last few days. It was a straight shot down Main Street, less than two miles. But instead of going down Main, I took a right down Pine, completely out of my way. You see, there was something that drive had that the other did not. Thinking back, I wasn't even sure if I knew what I was doing. I was as if I forgot who I was and fell back to old habits. Because on this route, right in-between two shops was the liquor store.

I never stopped. But everything in me wanted to.

My sobriety was being tested, and I was spiraling. Which led me here.

"Edward," The door opened behind me as I straightened, rubbing my face.

"Alec," I said, watching as he made his way to the other side of his desk, opting for his windowsill instead of the chair. He wore an oil-stained shirt, indicating he had been working prior to me showing up. He observed me, taking in my body language and my physical appearance. I knew he spotted the darkness under my eyes and the paleness of my skin the moment he entered the room. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his trousers as his feet crossed, planted firmly on the ground. He stayed silent, inspecting me, guessing the state of mind I was in just based off **of** this small interaction. I cleared my throat, breaking the tension because I hated when he did this shit, even though I knew that despite it all, I was here for his help.

"Something happened," He mused nonchalantly, dropping his shoulders. I tilted my chin, nodding once. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"That's why I'm here," My response was sharper than I intended, but Alec wasn't offended. He had seen me at rock bottom, at my absolute worst, and stuck through, even when he should have left me behind.

My family loved me, they supported me, even when they shouldn't have. I cherish every second I am with them, knowing they could have left me behind, some of them even did. But no matter that love, they didn't know what it was like to live the life I used to have. Even Carlisle, who treats people with addictions, sees what they go through, how they try to scrape by until they get their next high, what lengths they will go to just feel it, to make the pain go away. That was just a scratch on the surface, and Carlisle could never relate to me the way Alec does on that level.

Alec had been an addict for years, even before I was born. His choice was alcohol with the occasional high of meth, something that deteriorated him. He struggled, went homeless, lost his marriage and his kids in the process. He had to hit bottom before getting back up, and he got better with a few relapses here and there. He's been clean for fourteen years, took on the role of a sponsor, and helped others. He knew what it was like, he knew what I went through, helped me when I had no one, held me when I was in rehab, physically sick from withdrawal.

Every meeting with him was a walk down memory lane, one that could be painful but needed, especially when I felt a struggle.

"She left," I admitted under my breath, my palms pressed together as I felt a weight in my stomach.

"Why?" He questioned.

"She found out."

"Charlie told her?" I shook my head. "You told her?" I did it again, glaring at the floor. I heard him let out a deep exhale, a shuffle, and then a scratch against the floor as he pulled out his chair to sit. "You feared this would happen."

"I should have never trusted him," I admitted.

"Can't trust an addict. Trust me," He joked, but I stayed still. "You okay?"

I closed my eyes, seeing her again. Seeing her smile, the way her cheeks dusted with pink when she was embarrassed or her scrunched nose when she was angry. I could see her silhouette against the window with a cup of coffee as the sun lifted behind her, creating a halo of orange and yellow light. I could feel the vibrations of her laugh, her lips on mine, the way she looked wrapped in the sheets of my bed, the warmth of her body against me as her fingers skimmed the skin of my shoulders. How badly I wanted to erase everything and go back in the past and stay there like nothing ever happened. I was a fool. I deceived her. And the memory of our happiness was stained by her tears, ripping it like damp paper. She was there, but the white noise had muted her voice. The way her lips moved was unmistakable.

 _Don't follow me, Edward._

"Edward?"

My eyes opened, the heaviness capturing them again as I pushed my fingers through my hair, bouncing my leg.

"We were supposed to go to San Francisco together," I told him, a hollowness replacing the weight inside of me. "Get out of this fucking town, start something new."

"Can't start something new if you aren't truthful about the past."

"You know why I didn't tell her," I warned, a part of me still trying to convince myself I did the right thing.

"And I told you from the start that keeping it from her was a bad idea. No matter your reasons, she was bound to find out. Whether it was Charlie or someone else, it would come to light that you knew. And no matter how you flip _that_ coin, she was going to feel a certain way about it." He said, leaning forward. Despite my reasons, I knew Alec was right. "I suppose you are here because you need a drink?"

"I can't even step into Masen's," I admitted through a groan, leaning back in my chair.

"Doesn't surprise me, Edward. You really should let go of that bar."

"You sound like Emmett."

"You are keeping it because you feel you owe something to your father."

"That's not true," My voice broke, showing the lie.

"You are. And you need to let it go because it is too much of a temptation. Especially when you are emotional. All of your issues with Tanya, every time you would wind up here in front of me, stewing in your guilt, wishing for an escape. Have you forgotten so quickly about the incident with Bella, when she kissed you after she had a drink?" He questioned, the memory assaulting me. When it happened, I was conflicted. Weeks of going back and forth with her, the push and pull we had, the feelings I had when she was near me, even if she was cussing me out, was undeniable. Despite my annoyance, I couldn't deny my curiosity and attraction, and I knew she felt it too. I let myself wander, inquisitive of her and everything she was. And the moment it happened, the moment our lips touched, it was like all of those feelings were gone because the whiskey on her lips was the only thing that mattered. She was nothing but a roadblock between me and what I wanted.

And that scared the shit out of me.

"I'm not here to talk about Masen's."

"Then what are you here to talk about?" He asked, lacing his fingers together as he settled his chin on top of them. I was at a loss, I wasn't sure what to say at first. Did I want to relapse because she left? Was it out of guilt from keeping a secret from her? "You're struggling. I can sense that. Why don't you start at the beginning of your night so I can help you?"

The beginning.

That wasn't the beginning I wanted to relive, but I knew that at the end of the day, Alec was only trying to help me the best way he could. So, I eased myself in my chair, despite the emptiness I felt inside of me, and recalled the events earlier. I could hear my voice, could feel it crack as I spoke to him about the way she found out, the way her own voice faltered with the truth when I admitted I had known this whole time. I was captured by my own memories, continuing for the sake of just a bit of guidance. And despite my story, I found myself wandering, remembering a time when it wasn't so fucking complicated. And a memory popped up, one of the first times I saw her.

 _Screw this day._

 _Everything about it was wrong, starting with the bills at Masen's, to Tanya calling, and then ending at the issues with Charlie, which is why I found myself pulling into his driveway. The very first thing I noticed when I arrived was the fact that Charlie's truck was missing. I cursed under my breath, shifting the car into park as I saw another car, a black one, pulled at the side of the house. I reached for my phone in the passenger seat and began to type a text to Jasper, but my eyes caught a light turning on through the purple curtain on the second floor. Visibly relaxing, I exited the car, sliding my phone into my back pocket as I made my way to the front porch, climbing the few stairs and passing the empty bottles that were scattered across the wood._

" _Charlie!" A voice yelled on the other side, almost the exact moment I knocked, and before I knew it, the door flung open, my footing faltering as I was met with wild brown eyes that lightened from the sun. Dark hair twisted behind in a low knot to show off porcelain skin with a hint of rose swooped across her cheeks. And at that moment, I could feel a sharp inhale as if I had forgotten how to breathe._

 _I hadn't expected her. I didn't even know her. Why didn't I know her?_

 _I was mesmerized by her small movements, the way her shoulders dropped as if she was disappointed, but a curiosity was hidden in her eyes as she looked over me, as if she were studying me much like I was studying her. A wisp of hair was caught by the wind, dancing across her forehead, and I had an inkling to reach out and catch it._

 _Who the hell was this woman?_

 _I pulled myself from my daze, watching as she looked over me with inquisitiveness and I cleared my throat, trying to pull her attention back. But something red had caught my eye, and I looked down to a hand that rested in front of her, a doll with stringy hair clutched in her palms. She noticed my gaze, looking down before quickly hiding it from sight._

" _Can I help you?" She asked as I noticed the plum sweater she wore highlighted her skin, almost as if it were glistening. Her jeans were dark, hugging her frame, and she wore heeled boots, a stark contrast to what other women in Forks wore. She seemed so put together and clearly from out of town. She cleared her throat, my eyes catching hers._

" _I'm sorry to bother you; I didn't realize Charlie had company," I said, looking behind me just to double-check that he was truly gone._

" _I'm his daughter," She told me as I looked back at her, eyes widened. I could have sworn I heard that wrong. I blinked a few times, even letting out a chuckle._

" _Daughter?" I laughed again, the word seeming almost foreign. "I didn't know he had a daughter. Does he know he has a daughter?" That had to be the only explanation. There was no way in the seven years I have known Charlie that he would not have told me he had a daughter, especially one who was grown. However, my inquisitiveness seemed to only irritate her, her foot-stomping as her nose scrunched._

" _Can I help you with something?" She asked harshly. If I didn't know she was pissed by her defensive stance, then her tone definitely_ _ **held**_ _a warning. I felt at a loss of words, realizing I had my foot in my mouth as I tried to wrap my head around how I already managed to piss her off in the one minute I've known her. I couldn't help but laugh at my own idiocy, but that seemed only to fuel her._

" _I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… Shit… I'm Edward," I said, trying to save face. I reached my hand out as a peace offering and even though she hesitated, she responded, sliding her palm into mine. The moment our hands touched, I could feel something buzzing under my skin. Her skin was soft, our proximity leaving my throat dry as I could smell the lavender of her perfume._

" _Bella," She said. "You know my father?"_

" _Yeah…" I hesitated, trying to peel through my memories, trying to remember if he ever mentioned a Bella. There was a Renee. But never a Bella. I pulled my hand away, still reeling from the vibrations but careful around my words. Whether or not Charlie knew about her existence, I was unsure if she was aware of the state he was in. And even if he was strides better than he was several months ago, I still didn't know how much she knew._

" _Yeah… I check in on him from time to time just to make sure he's staying out of trouble," I told her._

" _You're a few hours too late," Her stance became less tense, but I can see the worry in her eyes. "He left early this morning in his truck and was heavily intoxicated."_

 _Damnit, Charlie._

" _Damn," I cursed, pulling off my cap and running my fingers through my hair as I tried to calculate the odds of where he would end up. Charlie was a magnet for mishap, one I constantly found myself dragging him out of. And based off of Bella's tone, she seemed to have an inkling of what he was involved in._

 _I knew I should have checked on him last night._

" _Did you look for him?" I asked._

" _Of course, I did," There was that tone again, right along with a nose scrunch._

" _I didn't mean it… Fuck," I spit, trying to find my words as I shuffled with all of the possibilities. Maybe he slipped back into Masen's? Or even the Community Center. I just hoped to God he didn't step back on a plane. "Where all did you look?"_

" _I went around town several times and for several hours. He doesn't have his cell phone on him, so I called the police and…"_

" _You called the police!" I accused, my brain stuttering as the rest of my body tried to catch up to what she said. "On your own father?" Despite his recent issues back in June, I had finally got him back to where I needed him, functioning the best he could. And just like that, she shows up, his daughter, and begins to dismantle it. I became furious at her, maybe even unreasonably so, but the progress we made was crumbling every second he was missing. In my own thoughts, I hadn't even begun to process her reaction. She gripped the doorknob so tightly that her knuckles turned white, her body stiff, as if she were holding herself back from screaming._

" _He was drunk; of course, I'm going to call the police!" She yelled, fueling my own anger. "He could hurt someone! I'm not going to protect him just because he's my father," She told me, and I had realized there was no point in arguing with her while Charlie was still out there, my time ticking until the force found him. I turned and headed down the porch, hesitating as I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to recollect my thoughts._

" _Did you check the community center?"_

" _No, I didn't know to look there," She said, shrugging. I reached for my phone, checking the clock. I was usually at the center around this time, and if Charlie was in trouble, he would try to find me. It was the only lead I had._

 _I looked back to Bella, noticing her staring once again as if she were studying me. Despite her anger, even I could admit beauty when I saw it. She definitely didn't take after Charlie, that was certain. I wondered if he knew about her, why he would have never mentioned her or why I had never seen her in the last several years of knowing him. My questions would need to go unanswered for now, because despite the undeniable curiosity I had, just as she seemed to have for me, I needed to find Charlie. Now._

" _I think I know where he is."_

 _xx_

"Have you tried reaching out to her?" Alec asked, bringing me back from my thoughts. He had been silent, taking in every detail I had over the past forty-eight hours, right down to the moment she walked away from me.

"She isn't picking up," I admitted, running my fingers through my hair.

"Do you blame her?"

"No."

"Have you talked to Charlie?"

"No," I spat.

"I hear a lot of resentment towards him, but I think it is wrongfully placed."

"What?" I gaped, looking up to him. Wrongfully placed? I knew I had fault here, but if there was anything I could trust Charlie on, it was his word. He was always honest with me, always told me what he did, how he felt. "He has never given me any reason not to trust him. Even if he is vague, he always told me the truth about the drinking, always told me the shit he got himself into!" I challenged.

"Charlie is an addict, Edward. Clearly, he has skeletons in his closet he did not want to unveil. I don't understand why you're so surprised by this," Alec told me, leaning back in his chair. "You can never trust his word. Did he tell you about his ex-wife?" He asked, shutting me up. "He purposefully left her and Bella out of any detail of his life, so you wouldn't know. Even when you hauled your ass to Phoenix to pick him up, which I still can't believe you did, he didn't tell you the whole story! Just because he is honest about his drinking, doesn't mean he is honest about anything else." Alec argued as I felt my jaw go tight, my lips pressing together as I let my forehead rest against my clasped fingers. "I know you are hurting, and I know you meant well, but it still doesn't take away the fact that you knew what you did."

"I wanted to tell her," I admitted, broken.

"I know. You told me this every time I saw you. And what did I tell you?"

I reflected back to my times with Alec, right after my first date with Bella in the loft. I remembered her finding the picture of my parents and me on my shelf. She was genuinely curious, questioning me about them and I felt so comfortable telling her the truth, something I never did with anyone. I guess I was like Charlie in that manner, content in keeping the people I love who were no longer around to myself, the secrecy like a shield. But with her, it was easy to be vulnerable. My honesty inspired her to tell me about her mother, her rough childhood with two parents who were addicts, and while I was grateful, it was then that I pieced everything together.

" _My parents loved me, I know they did. But they loved their vices more," She admitted, her tone dropping to indicate a sadness that burrowed deep inside of her. I watched as she smiled, trying to hide it, but I could see through the light in her brown eyes. She still kept it deep in her heart, her resentment. And at that moment, I felt closer her to her than anyone. "But then, my mom got clean. She went to rehab, and when she realized Charlie was not going to do the same, she left with me. She took me to Phoenix."_

 _Phoenix._

 _I blinked because I wasn't sure if I heard that correctly._

" _Phoenix?" I asked as she tilted her head in a nod just as I leaned back against the couch. Was that why Charlie went to Phoenix? To see her? But she didn't mention him visiting. In fact, it was clear that once she left Forks, fourteen years ago, Charlie barely even kept in contact. But then, why would he go there? She had mentioned her mother died a few months ago, but I wasn't sure of the exact date. What I was sure of was she died of an overdose, and I couldn't help but wonder if Charlie had anything to do with it._

 _I rubbed the back of my neck, realizing she was staring, and I needed to keep the conversation going, "Uh, what's in Phoenix?"_

" _My Grandparents," She told me, choosing to ignore my odd reaction. She continued to tell me about her life there, where she graduated, and what she ended up doing. I listened to every second of her, taking in her words, the way she smiled when she spoke of her mother and the sadness in her voice when she told me of her death and how she found her. I was grateful for her candor, her willingness to trust me with something I knew she didn't often share._

I didn't say anything to her that night, because I didn't see the point in causing an issue, especially if I didn't have the whole truth. I made a note to confront Charlie, and that was exactly what I did the next day after AA, when we were in my office at the community center. When I told him, the look on his face solidified what I hoped wasn't true. He avoided the topic at first, told me I had no idea what I was talking about, that I needed to mind my own business, but it was when I questioned his involvement in Renee's death, that I hit a nerve. He became so angry, I could have sworn I saw tears in his eyes. I had never seen Charlie cry.

That's when he told me. Everything. Things I was unsure Bella still knew. And he swore to me he would tell her, it was just about timing. He questioned my relationship with her and reminded me that a conversation between an addict and their sponsor is to remain private, as a way to silence me. But he wasn't wrong, information he told me, as long as he wasn't at risk or putting someone else at risk, was to stay between us. That was the only thing that kept me quiet in the months following, and the longer he waited to tell her, the more I distanced myself from him.

And throughout those months, the guilt of harboring what I knew ate me alive. And when Bella and I grew closer, when I realized this wasn't just a causal relationship, I found myself visiting Alec more frequently, not just as a sponsor but as a friend. And every time he told me the same thing.

"Tell her," I answered his question lowly, thinking back to the mistakes I made.

"There is no binding contract saying the information between you and him needs to stay that way. He said those things so you would feel guilty, so you wouldn't tell her. And look where that got you," He told me as I nodded, disappointed in myself in trusting him.

"What do I do, Alec? I fucking love her, we had all these plans to get the hell out of here and move on, and she's gone. What do I do?" I repeated, at a loss of what steps I need to take to fix this.

"The only thing you can," He began as I looked up to him. "Give her space. If she wants to forgive you, she'll come back."

" _Jesus_ ," I cursed, realizing he was encouraging me to do nothing. I stood from my seat, the metal scratching against the floor as I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to make sense of how I let it get this bad. Besides my family, she was the only person who brought me happiness. All these years, feeling an emptiness reside in me after my mother died and then my father, despite our rocky relationship. I was lost, just walking around in circles until I found some type of purpose. I was even beginning to resent the bar, the one thing that still made me feel even a semblance of a connection to my father. I found it difficult to find things that mattered. Until her. And I lost her over my own stupidity, trusting someone who should have never been trusted.

"Do you remember when the anniversary of Maggie came?" He questioned, her name like a buzz in my ear, my eyes swiveling right to him, narrowing in accusation.

"Don't..." I paused, exhaling. "Don't bring her into this."

"I'm just trying to show you perspective, Edward. You almost relapsed that night, came to me in tears with a bottle in your hand, threatening to drink," He said as I shook my head, walking further away. "You made it through that night and came out on the other side, better for it. Sometimes we have to hit bottom to grow, and this is one of those moments. You need to realize that everyone is to blame in the scenario. Not just you, not just Charlie. But no matter what, you will get through this."

I remained silent, absorbing his words, trying to grasp what he was trying to teach me. Alec had been there during my worst moments, had pulled me through the darkness when I couldn't do it myself, and this was no different. I looked at him with a nod, standing to face him. He spared me a smile before patting my shoulders in a very fatherly way.

"Keep trying. If you love her like you say you do, you won't stop." He told me as I nodded, the two of us ending our conversation with a shake of the hand and a promise from him that he would be available to me for the next few days should I need it. Even though I felt farther away from the bottom, I kept his advice close in case I caved into my feelings.

Later that evening, I found myself in Charlie's driveway, unable to go home just yet. I sat in my car for over thirty minutes, watching a shadow in the kitchen. I hadn't talked to Charlie since the other morning after I had spent the night at the house. I left Bella in bed, finding him drinking coffee while reading the newspaper. We exchanged pleasantries, and he offered me a cup, the conversation soon leading to a confrontation of when he was going to tell Bella. As always, Charlie sidestepped the discussion, promising me he was going to tell her, but our conversation was cut short when Bella made her way into the room. I should have never trusted him, I knew that. But I couldn't place all the blame on him.

I always avoid placing myself into a situation I have no business being in, and on top of Charlie promising me he was going to tell her, I used that mentality to cope with the fact that I was keeping a secret from Bella. But even I knew I wasn't blameless.

After going back and forth, I finally stepped out of the car and up onto the porch. It was no surprise to me that the door was unlocked, and after a few knocks, I finally let myself in. I could hear clanking from the kitchen, stepping in to get a full glance of him. With his upper half lying across the table, he sat in a chair with an almost empty bottle of whiskey near his lips, several other empty bottles were scattered around him.

"Jesus, Charlie," I said as his eyes opened, the chair creaking as he eased himself up, wincing at every movement. It reeked of alcohol, sweat, and trash. The counters were littered with dishes, a stark contrast to how his house had been the past several months Bella was here. It was like she had never shown up at all ... the moment she left, was the moment he went back to his old ways.

"I wondered when I would see you," He slurred, his hair disarray from the angle he had been laying on the table. "Thought it would have been sooner."

"I drove by last night," I admitted. "When I saw her car wasn't here, I knew she left."

"Yep. She's gone. Back to Phoenix," He said casually. "You going to tell me you told me so?" He asked, twisting off the cap of his whiskey and taking a drink, leaning back to catch every drop.

"I don't think I have to tell you," I began, pulling the chair out and taking a seat. "I think you already know."

"Yeah, well, she would have left anyway. No matter if it were you, me, or Black, who told her; she would have jumped in her car regardless," He admitted, his body lolling back to the table as he leaned himself against it as if to give him stability. "She's like her mother that way, always sticking to her guns."

"Do you blame her?" I asked, echoing Alec from earlier.

"For what? Leaving? No. She should have never come back."

"You don't mean that."

"I don't?" He asked, his tone dry. "What the hell is here for her? This one-street town is a dead-end for someone like her, she doesn't belong here. Me being an alcoholic was the best thing for her, got her out of this fucking town."

"We were going to leave," I said, gauging his reaction. He let out a whisper of a chuckle, staring down at his bottle. "I was going to get her out of here."

"Well," He paused, taking another drink. "Looks like we are both fucked."

"She doesn't know the whole truth, Charlie," I said, leaning forward. "And you know it. All she knows is that you went there. She doesn't know what happened before, she doesn't—"

"And she won't know," His voice was flat, final. I blinked, bewildered at this. "I can live with the fact that she hates me, been living with it all my life. But if she knew that Renee called me first, then she would lose faith in her too. I'm not going to do that to her."

I digested this for a moment.

I didn't know at first, but once I confronted Charlie that day in AA, he divulged his history with Renee, focusing primarily on the last few months before her death. She was reaching out to him before he even stepped on the plane to see her, for reasons he wouldn't tell me. What he did say was that they spoke almost every night, until suddenly she stopped. He told me he went out of his mind trying to get ahold of her, at one point thinking he conjured up all the previous calls they. He lost control, drinking until he blacked out, until he touched down in Phoenix. How he managed to pull himself together for a plane ride was beyond me, but it didn't last. After she rejected him, told him to leave, he found himself into trouble.

 _The sound of buzzing irritated me enough to pull me from my sleep, my hand lazily reaching over to the bedside table to grab my lit-up phone, indicating a call. I squinted at the light, slowly making out an unknown number from Phoenix. I growled, throwing my phone back on my bedside table as I situated myself on my back, closing my eyes._

 _No more than thirty seconds later, my phone buzzed once again, the same number appearing before I gave in, answering._

" _What?" I barked._

 _"Hello. You have a collect call from," The recording stopped, white noise in the background until a voice came on. "Edward, answer the damn phone!" I knew the voice immediately, sitting up in my bed, giving my full attention to the recording. "…An inmate at Phoenix PD Facility. Calls can and will be monitored and recorded. To accept the charges for this call, press three. If you do not wish to pay for this call please hang up." I pulled the phone from my ear, pressing three before hearing the line trill just before it connected._

" _Edward?"_

" _Charlie, what the hell are you doing in Phoenix?"_

" _I don't have much time to explain, but I need you to come get me," He urged, my fingers slipping through my hair as I processed what he was asking. I didn't even know he left town. How long had he been gone? I just saw him two days ago._

" _It's three in the fucking morning, Charlie. That's more than a twenty-hour drive, are you crazy?" I growled. "When did you even leave Washington?"_

" _Yesterday. Listen to me Edward, I got arrested; public intoxication or whatever else they feel fit to fucking charge me with!" He yelled the last few words, I'm sure gaining the attention of the officers. "They won't let me fly out or rent a car. I got bail taken care of, I just need a ride."_

" _How did you make bail?"_

" _Don't mind that, can you do it or not? I really need you, son."_

 _I rumbled, knowing full well I couldn't leave him out there. Eventually, what money he had would run out, and I doubt he would find anyone traveling to Forks to hitch a ride with, and that's only if someone picked him up. His chances were unlikely, and on top of that, withdrawal would hit him without alcohol, winding him back in jail or even in the hospital. I pulled off my sheets, got out of bed, and began to get dressed._

" _Be out in front of the police station this time tomorrow."_

" _Thank fucking Christ, I'll send you the address. I owe you big time, Edward."_

I watched as Charlie continued to drink, thinking back on when I picked him up in Phoenix, the way he looked as if he hadn't showered in days. On our way back, he was vague about what happened, only mentioning he was visiting family, and it turned out badly, causing him to leave and find himself a drink, one that ended up leaving him in jail. I was utterly clueless at what really happened to him down there, and I couldn't ever imagine it coming back to me this way. That one trip, one I took to help a friend in need, had ruined every bit of happiness I had found in the last few months. Looking at Charlie, it was easy to blame him, easy to be angry, and point a finger to ease my guilt, but after my talk with Alec, I knew I was also at fault, and if the situation was reversed, I wouldn't be as willing to forgive either.

At this time, Charlie had opened another bottle he produced from the floor, with one more still sitting by his chair. I thought how long it would take him to ingest both of them, how long it would take him to blackout, to try and forget what happened.

"Liver disease be damned," I said, cocking an eyebrow to him. He glowered at me before taking a swig. "Thought you were supposed to stop."

"How long have you known me?" He questioned.

"Bella got you to stop, or at least slow down."

"Well, she's not here anymore is she?" His tone was clipped, but I could sense the break in it, the truth in his words hitting him. Despite constantly feeling like a failure, Bella did exactly what she wanted to do – to help him. And even if she didn't get him to stop, I never knew Charlie to reduce his consumption, not for anyone. And she did it, all on her own. And he knew it too. Having her around wasn't just positive for me, she began to rub off on him as well.

"It's okay to miss her, Charlie. I get it. Out of everyone, I fucking get it. But don't destroy all the work the two of you put in. You're sending yourself right to your damn grave. And then what? She has two dead parents?"

"Tragedy makes kids tough, Edward. You know something about that."

"It makes them lonely," I admitted, watching as his eyes flashed to mine.

"It doesn't fucking matter. She's gone now, nothing you or I can do about it," He stood from his chair, wobbling on his feet before making his way by, stopping in the **foyer.** "I'm going to bed, feel free to let yourself out," He said, his voice solemn. I turned in just enough time to see him hesitate and hold himself against the banister as if he were trying to absorb the courage and strength to make it up the stairs. Finally, after a moment, he took his first step and left me alone at the table.

xx

The loft was colder without her.

Cold to the point that I wanted to just fucking leave. I even considered calling Carlisle and asking if I could stay with them. Every corner was filled with a memory that was painful to relive, knowing my chances of repairing what I had broken were low. I unzipped my jacket, letting it fall to the ground as I made my way to my bed, sitting at the edge. Elbows on my knees, I rested my forehead in my palms as I tried to absorb my conversations with both Alec and Charlie, reeling from the truth I was being faced with every second since she left. I was a fool to think this would be swept under the rug as if it never happened. I was an idiot to think she would take it in any way other than hurtful. She was betrayed by the two people she should have trusted the most, and I didn't blame her.

Rain began to pelt against the industrial windows, thunder rumbling miles away, indicating an oncoming storm. I laid back in my bed, staring at the brick ceiling as I felt a brush of fingers, a laugh ringing in my ears, capturing my attention until I turned my head at the space she usually resided in, seeing it was empty. I could recall only a few short weeks ago, being in the same position but at Charlie's home, in her childhood bed. It was small and narrow, not built for two people but we made it work. I had told her about Maggie, my biggest secret of all. I hid her, masking those scars so they couldn't be used to hurt me because nothing else made me feel like a failure more than her death. The child I never met, never knew I wanted until she was gone. A series of unfortunate events had diminished her into nothing, leaving me broken, a shell of a man I didn't care to see again.

Telling Bella that was therapeutic. And although it was opening up a wound I stitched shut, something comforting came out of the fact of her knowing. She saw every part of me and still loved me.

Loved.

She had loved me, she told me. I wasn't sure if the feeling was still there, not after what happened. I had small hopes that whatever it was between us would heal what was severed. Never had I met someone who made me feel the way she did, to the point where it was hard not to think of her. I never had that before, never believed it would happen, not after Maggie. But I was clueless, and stumbling upon her was something I didn't take for granted until she was gone. And I wish I could take it all back. Fuck, do I wish I could have it all back.

I remembered that night in her bed, the way her pale skin illuminated the darkness, her eyes almost black but still glinting as if to capture me. Her hair was flowing all around her, it smelled of lavender and lilacs as I pushed wisps of it behind her ears.

She looked at me like I was the only person she knew. And then she said it.

" _I love you."_

I could hear her, like a broken record. And I remembered the kiss we shared, the declaration to her just the same. It was a moment I would never forget. A moment that left a coldness inside of me now that she was gone. Slowly, I rose from my spot and reached into my pocket to grab my phone.

One more try.

I pushed her name, but before a dial tone started, I heard her voice in the form of voicemail.

"It's Bella, I'm not available right now – please leave me a message."

"Bella," I began, strangled by my own words that caught in my throat. I cleared it, pressing the tips of my fingers into my forehead to ease my tension. "I don't even know where to start. God, I," I stammered, trying to pull myself together. "I'm so sorry, for everything. I should have told you, the moment I realized what happened, I know I should have. And I know you are trying to wrap your head around the reasons I didn't, but I trusted when I shouldn't have. And I know if it were me, I'd need space to think too." I paused, "I know you are hurting… But, I hope you know… I hope you know that no matter what, I never wanted that. I never wanted you to doubt me and, _shit_ ," I sniffed, trying to keep my emotion together. "I need you to know there is more to the story. Things that Charlie doesn't want to tell you, but I don't want to lie to you anymore. I'll tell you anything you want to hear. I just need you to call me back," I stopped, clearing my throat to ease the pain. "Just, call me back,"

I hesitated, feeling the tears well up, pausing to allow the emotions to pass. The ache was more significant now, encompassing my whole body. It made me feel weak, stifled. I had no idea if she would ever listen to this, if she were to delete this before listening or even get a new phone. A small sliver of hope told me to press on, to let her know that no matter what, no matter what happened in the future, I realized I made a mistake, and I wanted to atone. So, I let out a breath of air, saying the only thing that mattered. The only thing, I needed her to know.

"I love you."

* * *

 _AN: A thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and favorited. I love you all so much._

 _Thank you to Fran, who honestly is my biggest cheerleader. I appreciate you so much!_

 _I hope you enjoyed the surprise POV. We have about three chapters and an epilogue left, so strap in!_

 _See you next time..._

 _ii_


	22. Letters

_Chapter Song - Out of Time by Running Young_

 _And I know the world keeps spinning,_  
 _And I know I'm out of time._  
 _I know the world keeps spinning,_  
 _But I'll take my time with you._

* * *

 _December 24_ _th_

Perched on the kitchen counter, I watched the multi-colored lights glimmering under the star-filled sky as the smell of cinnamon and thyme wafted through the room. I could hear Christmas music from the next room, the younger cousins running from the living room to the kitchen, giggling as Phil followed behind, trying to catch. Gran began singing along to the piano, despite Aunt Charlotte's pleas to stop. Gran didn't listen to her and she sang Little Drummer Boy until her heart was content, even if she was off-key and confusing the lyrics with Silent Night. I admired Gran's enthusiasm for the holiday, especially after the year we had. She was never one to relax during this time of the year, always decking out her house, hosting dinner both Christmas Eve and day and spending an ungodly amount of money on presents no one truly needed. She even wrapped the cactuses out front in lights, every single bulb carefully placed around a spike that I imagined took extreme dexterity to complete.

Even if it were tradition, I had hoped this year, she would call everything off.

This was the first Christmas without my mom … without her helping Charlotte decorate the interior of Gran's house, arguing where the snowmen should go. Without her trying to assist Phil with the ham, nearly burning it in the process and filling the kitchen with smoke. Without her singing with Gran, just as off-key as she was, but still filled with a joy I lost when she died.

It would always be without her now; her presence, her voice, her smell, her energy, and her love. Everything seemed ruined, like every cheerful memory I had was tainted by the fact that I would never have another moment with her.

The house was warm, but I was cold.

The kids entered again, Phil right on their heels as I emotionlessly watched, forcing a smile as Phil gave up, his breathing ragged as he leaned up against the wooden island. I had noticed slivers of gray hair peeking out through the black at the top of his head and dusting the new beard he sported. The past few months have aged him, his skin beginning to lose shape on his forehead, wrinkles forming, making him look much older than he was. Tragedy does that to you; runs you into the ground until you're nothing but dust. He at least was smiling, something I hadn't seen before Mom had passed.

"I'm getting way too old for this," He breathed, pressing his hand to his chest as I spared him an empathetic smile. He eased himself up, inching closer as he looked out the window, as if he were expecting to see something. He then turned back to me with a raised brow. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I said, sliding from the counter. "Just savoring my time being back with you guys."

"By yourself?"

"I just needed a second. This is … A lot."

As he went to say something, the door swung open, Aunt Charlotte peeking her head through. "Time for dinner!" Phil forced a smile as we walked together to the dining room. I felt his eyes on me as if he were waiting for me to break at any moment. He knew something was different; he had even mentioned it several times, asking why I seemed despondent and quiet lately. Every time I shrugged and gave him the same answer: I was fine. I never went into any more detail than that. He has no idea what happened and what I found out, and I swore to myself I wouldn't tell him. I wasn't sure if I wanted to ruin what he thought of Mom, especially if he found out Charlie had something to do with her relapse.

No, it would only hurt him more.

So, I stayed quiet, holding in the secrets that were kept from me for so long. They tore at me; swirling inside, holding me hostage. They made it difficult to sleep, even after a month of leaving Forks, I was still plagued by what happened and I knew I didn't want him to feel the same. And so, I stayed quiet, only giving bits and pieces, never revealing too much. Never enough to hurt him.

I sat down at the dining room table next to Gram who sat at the head. She smiled at me, reaching over and patting the top of my hand as I spared her one in return. I could see the worry in her hazel eyes, could see the look that she and Phil exchanged when they thought I wasn't paying attention.

Uncle Sam said a quick prayer as our hands connected around the table. There was warmth in the room, love radiating as I stayed motionless and cold. When hands were released and everyone was ready to eat, Gram spoke.

"I'd like to take the opportunity to remember someone who isn't here," She began as I felt a crash in my chest as if someone had hit me straight on, leaving me breathless. Phil had a similar reaction, both of us hoping that we made it through the holiday without dwelling on those who were missing. It was hard enough as it was. "This has been a trying year. And I know Renee is looking down on us, loving that we are keeping this tradition going. She wouldn't want us to mourn any more than we already have."

I peeked at Aunt Charlotte, who wiped away a quick tear, Uncle Sam reaching for her as he pressed a kiss to her temple, the intimate moment causing me to look back down at my empty plate.

"I just want to say," Gram began again, her voice cracking as I turned to look at her. "Thank you all for coming. I would not have survived if it had not been for all of you." She reached for me, squeezing my hand as I showed her a halfhearted smile, squeezing back to show my gratitude. "Okay," She reached for her napkin, dabbing her eyes. "Enough tears. Let's eat!"

Everyone began reaching for the middle of the table, grabbing bowls and passing them around as I stayed motionless, the twisting in my stomach, making everything less appetizing. I didn't want to cause attention, so I put a little bit of everything on my plate, but I couldn't find the strength to eat, moving the food around with my fork as conversation erupted between family members. At one point, I managed a bit of green beans as I could feel Phil's eyes on me, as if he were observing. I swallowed hard, ignoring the sickness I felt immediately after.

"Bella, how is your father doing?" Aunt Charlotte asked as Phil froze next to me. I cleared my throat just before taking a drink of water.

"He's as well as to be expected," I responded as she nodded in understanding, knowing full well of his addiction from my mother. "I haven't spoken to him since I've left," I said willingly, but immediately bit my tongue at saying too much.

"Is he still at that house?" She asked as I nodded, staying silent. Everyone could sense my uneasiness, but I tried to relax, tried to avoid the attention on me. Thankfully, Uncle Sam interjected and began talking about sports, leading the conversation elsewhere. I didn't want to seem cold, but I couldn't force a conversation about Charlie or anything about Forks. My feelings were still sensitive to the topic and I briefly wondered if I would ever get over it.

xx

"You barely ate anything," Phil said as we entered the kitchen of his home. I shrugged off my jacket, hanging it over the chair. "I'm worried about you, Bella."

"Don't be."

I walked to the cabinet, opening it to find a glass before filling it with water. Phil hesitated around the island, watching me intently. His stare was uncomfortable, making it seem as if I were on display, as if he wanted me to know he was watching and being mindful of every movement I made. He was studying me, waiting for a weakness so he could jump in, try and reel more information from me that I did not want to give.

"Since you've come back," He hesitated, hedging around his words. "You've been like a ghost. It's like you're a different person."

"I'm fine, Phil," I said, agitation creeping into my voice even though what he said was true. I had arrived back in Phoenix shortly before Thanksgiving, and in the first few weeks of returning, I barely left the guest bedroom Phil had graciously offered me. He questioned me, tried to help me open up, but I was clinging to my sadness as if I was unable to let go. I tried to be strong, tried to put everything behind me, but I found it difficult even to sleep. I avoided Thanksgiving dinner and any family functions as much as I could. And despite everyone who asked me how I was, my answer was always the same.

 _I'm fine._

"I don't believe that," He answered, and I became frustrated, setting my cup down and onto the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. "Something happened, and for whatever reason, you are not telling me." I sucked in my bottom lip, knowing that if I gave him nothing, he would continue to question me. Everything I do would relate back to my trip to Forks, and I didn't have the energy to go back and forth with him. I realized I either needed to give him something or do better at hiding how I felt.

"We had a falling out," I breathed, pressing my palms onto the island. Phil blinked at me, saying nothing to urge me to continue. "I … I realized he wouldn't stop drinking, and I confronted him. He didn't like it and we argued. He's never going to stop, and I wasn't going to sit around and watch him die."

Phil was passive for a moment until trouble washed over him, a look of pity shot in my direction. He hesitated, his leg moving as if he wanted to come to me, but my body language said enough to warn anyone to stay away. I didn't want to be comforted. I just wanted to be alone.

"You can't change him, Bella," He said as I let out an empty laugh, nodding my head.

"I know," I inhaled sharply. "It's why I left."

I had hoped that was enough, and when he nodded his head, my shoulders visibly relaxed. Phil wasn't one to pry, but he also didn't want to be left in the dark. And despite the tone I set, he moved over to me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. His paternal instincts briefly made me wish that he had been my father from the beginning. If that had been the case, I wouldn't have had to go through all this heartache.

 _January 4_ _th_

"Isabella Swan?" The receptionist asked as I stood, straightening my skirt as I met her at the desk. "Go ahead and go through the double doors; first office on the left," She smiled as I nodded, thanking her and headed down the hallway, following her directions until I was in front of the office, a gold nameplate on top of the mahogany door reading _Siobhan Byrne_. I swallowed, placing my knuckles to the surface and knocking twice. I heard a voice command me to enter, and I opened the door, seeing fiery red hair on the other side of the desk, the muted colors in the room relaxing me almost instantly.

"Bella!" Siobhan jumped up from her seat, her icy blue eyes filled with joy the second she saw me, moving around her desk to reach me. We embraced tightly, something telling me it was more than just a way to say hello, but a hug that also held remorse.

Siobhan and I had met shortly after my graduation, and she is currently the head Director at S&K Publishing, along with her partner, Katherine. I had interviewed after receiving my diploma and Siobhan wasted no time in hiring me as a copy editor. There was something about her I related with; our taste in art and literature almost exactly the same. The first time we met we gushed over The Scarlet Letter and its themes of wisdom and suffering, something that is easily missed by most readers. From there on, we had a kindred relationship. She was my boss, but I had thought of her as a good friend.

A week before I was supposed to start work, Renee passed. Siobhan was disappointed I backed out of the position, but understood I needed time to heal, and I wasn't sure how long it would take. After Christmas, and admitting to Phil an ounce of what truly happened in Forks, I knew I needed to at least pretend to move on. Sitting around wasn't going to get them off my back. I needed something tangible to show that I was okay. Luckily for me, Siobhan was more than eager to meet with me.

"How are you?" She asked, pulling away to look me in the eyes.

"I'm fine," I forced a smile, repeating my mantra.

She cocked an eyebrow, letting me know I didn't have her fooled. The good thing about Siobhan was her ability to adapt and move on rather than linger and pry. It was a quality I had wished my family had, rather than picking at the wound over and over again. She brushed her long red locks back and gestured to the seat as I moved past her, both of us sitting in our respective chairs.

"So, you are back," She stated, interlocking her fingers as she rested her chin on top of them.

"I'm back," I assured her.

"And you are ready to commit to a job?" She questioned, her blue eyes watching me warily.

"Of course. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," I squirmed under her gaze. Even though I thought fondly of Siobhan and our friendship, she could still be extremely intimidating. I felt uneasy in my choice of clothing, looking down at my plain white t-shirt and tweed pencil skirt. Was I too underdressed? Was I coming across as weak? I wondered if she could sense I wasn't serious about this, as if she felt I needed more time to grieve when I had been doing nothing but since July of last year.

 _I can't stay in that house any longer. I need out._

"Well, the Copy Editor position has been taken. We offered it to Jane Grady," She said dismissively as if she were unhappy over the decision.

"I understand," I nodded, feeling a hint of jealousy over the loss of a position I had worked so hard to attain.

"I wish we could have waited for you, you would have been fabulous in that role," She said, grinding salt into the wound. I winced, brushing my hair back as I situated myself in my seat.

"I understand the role is gone, but I'm hoping if you have something else, I'm willing to work for it. Even if it is something low, I just want to get my foot in the door," I told her with a definitive nod as a small smile crept over her lips and just as quickly vanished. She moved to her laptop, her long fingernails clicking away as the light from her screen reflected on her skin, making her look porcelain.

"I have a position open for Editorial Assistant," She said, looking back to me. "It is, however, a significant pay cut from what we originally offered you." She spoke, watching for my reaction.

"I don't care," I shrugged. "I want to work here for you and Katherine."

Siobhan clicked on her laptop a few more times before looking back to me, "There are some other positions available in our other sites … some with significantly higher salaries. Would you be willing to relocate?" She asked as I was still for a moment, thinking over her question. I knew I did not want to stay in Phoenix forever, that it was stained with unhappy memories, ones that outweighed the positives. But I also knew I did not have the funds to up and leave, even if I wanted to.

"Eventually," I answered with a nod. "I'd like to start here, though, and have the opportunity to interview for the Editorial Assistant position."

Siobhan laughed, one that radiated from her chest as she smiled at me, shaking her head. "You know you don't have to interview, Bella. The position is yours."

"Really?"

"Of course. I was disappointed when you reconsidered the position in July. Please, don't get me wrong, I understand why you did," She stopped, her tone dropping significantly. "As someone who has lost a parent, I get it. That's a whole different type of healing. And I respect you for making that decision. But from the moment we met, I knew you were destined for great things, and I still feel that way. I'm not one to let talent slip away. I pride myself on creating the publishers of the future."

I felt a lump in my throat, tears threatening to escape as I choked them back. Siobhan could sense my change of emotion, and she quickly reached over with a box of tissues. I grabbed one quickly, running it under my eye as I felt silly for reacting in such a way. But, Siobhan wasn't one to hold that against me. She was the first person since my mother to tell me she believed in me. And her words, while welcomed, still left an ache inside.

"Thank you," I said, just above a whisper.

"Enough of that," She stood, walked around the desk, and stopped just in front of me. "Let me introduce you to your new colleagues."

 _March 21_ _st_

I sat at my desk, furiously typing against my keyboard as I eagerly moved onto the last paragraph of a new article by a freelance writer Jane was interested in. I hadn't even realized that my coworker, Bree, had been standing at the side of my desk. I did a double take, observing her annoyed expression as she pressed her arms across her chest.

"What?" I asked as she laughed, shaking her head.

"Earth to Bella, where are you?" She questioned, pointing to my head. "Sometimes, I think you live in your own world up there."

I spared her a laugh, nodding my head. "Sometimes."

"We are going to get drinks after work. You want to come?" She asked as I scrunched my nose, immediately cueing an eye roll from her. "Let me guess, Jane wants this by tonight?"

"He just submitted the article three days ago," I sighed, gritting my teeth.

"I hate freelance writers sometimes," She scoffed, reaching out to touch my shoulder, "I guess we'll see you on Monday, then?"

I nodded. "See you then."

Bree and the other girls left shortly after five as I stayed behind, wrapping up the last paragraph before printing and binding it. I left it on Jane's desk for her to review when she comes in on Monday. I looked at the clock, it nearing seven as I headed back to my desk, grabbing my jacket and bag and making my way out the door.

Working at S&K had been a blessing in disguise. I jumped into it, eager to get out of the house and out of my mind. But the job had become much more than that. I was going through too much to realize how much I loved publishing. My return was wobbly at best and I felt rusty after being out for six months, much to the dismay of Jane. I knew she was questioning Siobhan's choice, despite the fact that her job was originally mine. But Siobhan remained faithful in me. Her confidence helped me through the first month and I was finally standing on my own two feet. Jane came around eventually, realizing I was an asset. I finished things in a timely manner, was here when needed, and flexible when it was necessary. I had even overheard Jane and Siobhan talking about my achievements and how overqualified I was for the job. I knew that too, but I was happy to be doing something that meant something to me, even if it was just a stepping stone,

It was cathartic, really. Doing something you loved, spending time with things that made you happy. I hadn't felt that since being with…

My thoughts ran cold, my heart aching as he entered my mind. In my car, I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. As I reached a red light, my eyes flickered to my phone, it lighting up at my touch. There was the same red bubble next to my voicemail box. I had been staring at that bubble since before Christmas, part of me wanting to cave in and listen to what he left me, but the other part still feeling scorned by his betrayal.

It was a constant battle back and forth, wishing I had the courage to either listen to it or delete it. The voicemail Edward left me was from November, only a few days after I went back to Phoenix. He had called me several times, texted me, begging for me to talk to him. And I was weak, I knew it, so I turned off my phone to severe the ties, so he could get the hint without me having to tell him directly.

I didn't turn my phone on until a week later, finding the one voicemail I still couldn't listen to.

This was another reason I loved to work. It's hard to get your mind off someone if you spend all day at home. Work gave me meaning and helped me to forget about him, Charlie, and Forks. I was still grappling with the truth, still angry at them both for lying. But the voicemail was the last part I had of Edward. If I deleted it, then everything would be finalized. He stopped reaching out, stopped trying to get a hold of me. If I deleted the message, it would be the last string attaching the two of us together.

Twenty minutes later, after a constant argument with myself, I pulled into the driveway of Phil's house, the very same one we lived in together as a family. I noticed he wasn't home, his car missing from the driveway and the lights off from inside. I stayed in my spot, turning to look at the red, 'for sale' sign in the yard. When Phil approached me about selling the house, I was taken by surprise but ultimately on board. Financially, I couldn't afford to live on my own yet, and Phil was more than welcoming to house me in the meantime. He said the house was too big, for two, but that is also contained both happy and sad memories, ones he was willing to let go in exchange for peace.

His words resonated with me, and I realized that despite the problems I was trying to work through, he was as well. It was easy for me to forget that Phil was trying to cope with the loss of Mom, just as much as I was. The house was no longer a place of happiness for us. It hadn't been for quite some time.

I exited my car and made my way inside, hanging my jacket in the side closet and kicking off my heels. I stopped for a moment, rubbing my temples as I vowed to make it an early night. I made my way into the kitchen, finding leftover lasagna that Gram had made the night before. I busied myself with sticking the pan in the oven and setting a timer for ten minutes, allowing it to heat.

The house was quiet, nearly deafening. As I waited for my dinner, I closed my eyes, conjuring up her laugh just down the hall. It was odd how her voice was so familiar, yet it felt as if I hadn't heard it in years. I knew it was just my mind, scratching an old record to make me believe she was in the other room and I began rationalizing with myself that she wasn't there. I knew it. I knew I was hearing things because being back in this house made it so. I found myself constantly turning behind me as if someone was watching, or investigating a sound that was eerily similar to someone calling my name. But it was just my imagination, my mind desperately trying to create something out of nothing. I found myself wishing she was here with me, standing at the counter, trying and failing to cook something for dinner. She was a horrible cook. I remembered the time she tried to make vegan lasagna. She had left it in too long, the noodles turned into mush, clumping the eggplant and burning the tofu. It tasted like hot garbage, but she was proud of herself. And despite the stomach ache later, I ate it anyway.

My fingertips touched the coolness of the island, my eyes closing as I imagined walking in, seeing her hazel eyes light up as she showed off her latest meal, even if it was a little overcooked. I could smell garlic, hear pots, and pans moving around as if she was really in here. She began to hum, and I remembered the tune immediately.

 _I'm coming back someday, come what may to Blue Bayou. Where the folks are fun, and the world is mine on Blue Bayou…_

I felt tears brimming, but they never fell. As I opened them, the kitchen was filled with blue light, signifying an oncoming storm. The counters were clear, free from any mess, the smell had dissipated to nothing. The temperature had dropped, so much so that I wrapped my arms around myself, smoothing down the goosebumps that appeared on my skin as I silently chastised myself for giving in to a silly fantasy.

 _God, I needed out of this house._

With a fist, I rubbed at my cheeks, walking to the sink as thunder rumbled outside. Hanging my head low, I looked out the window to catch a faint reflection of myself. Being back in Phoenix did nothing for my skin; it still drained of color. I covered the purple rings that stained under my eyes with concealer. I didn't want anyone at work worrying … giving away the fact that I still couldn't get a decent night's sleep. And despite the happiness I felt while at work, everything else was sadness. It deadened my mind, like a black cloud hanging over me. Every step I took, it was never far behind. A constant reminder that I felt so alone, even when I had people who supported me.

I scrubbed at my face with my clammy hands, unable to look for one more second. My phone began to buzz, and very slowly, I reached for it in my back pocket, pulling it out just in enough time to see a missed call.

It was from Forks, Washington.

And within the red bubble, the number had turned from one to two.

I clicked on my voicemail box, seeing the new message next to Edward's unopened one. I hesitated, briefly wondering if he had gotten a new number. It was hard for me to believe he would have changed his number just to trick me into answering. He wasn't that type of person. I thought about Charlie, wondering if he was trying to reach out, but that seemed far-fetched. If he didn't care enough to reach out when I left, what would change that now?

Before I could continue to go back and forth, I finally clicked on the voicemail, bringing my phone to my ear as a voice came to life; one that was unexpected but familiar.

"Bella, it's Carlisle Cullen. I need you to call me back when you receive this message. I'll be here at the office until ten tonight, so whenever you can, get back to me. Talk soon."

The voicemail disconnected, and I pulled my phone away, realizing that the number was not Carlisle's cell phone, as I had that information stored, but instead, it was his office line at the hospital. His voice was always calming, but I could hear the urgency behind it, a desperate plea for me to call. Charlie was a prideful man; he wouldn't call me even if he were in desperate need. But his doctor would. And despite the anger I still felt with him, there was no hesitation in what I did next. If he was calling from the hospital, that could only mean one thing.

I redialed the number, bringing my phone back to me as it rang twice before answering.

"Dr. Carlisle Cullen."

"Carlisle."

"Bella?" His voice softened, but a hint of surprise was hidden behind it as if he didn't expect to hear from me. "Thank you for calling me back. It's been … Awhile. How are you?"

"I'm good," I lied, tapping my thumb against the granite countertop.

"Are you still in Phoenix?"

"I am. How are you? How are Esme and Alice?"

 _And Edward?_

"The family is fine. Alice and Jasper moved to Seattle, and Emmett is in Portland with Rose," He said, forgetting a family member. "It's been a whirlwind in the last few months, but _everyone's_ okay," His tone was calm, as if he knew the unasked question that was caught in my throat. "I have to be honest; I wish I were speaking to you on better terms, but, you were the only one I could call," He went quiet, a deep exhale leaving him as I heard papers shuffling in the background.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Charlie," He stopped, allowing me a moment to steady myself. "There was an incident last night, and he went unconscious at the bar, hit his head against a table. I was here when he was brought in and I thought the worse of it was a concussion. This behavior isn't exactly abnormal for him, especially when he is at Masen's."

Carlisle stopped again, as if he was trying to pick his next words methodically, which was unlike him. Being a doctor gave you the ability to be blunt without consequence because no matter what, people will listen. Now, he was careful, hedging even. I could feel a pit in my stomach because when it came to Charlie, Carlisle was always straight forward. But I could sense his struggle.

"When he woke – he showed signs of extreme memory loss. He didn't even remember being at the bar at all. It was unusual, but not out of the realms of alcohol poisoning. Still, I ran some tests, and I got the results … And I fear it's worse than what I originally thought…"

"Worse?"

"Bella, his liver disease has progressed, quicker than I anticipated. All the healthy tissue he had is gone, and … I'm afraid to say that he's in stage four of cirrhosis."

There was a ringing in my ear, as if there had been an explosion right beside me, my brain stammering as my thoughts struggled to catch up with the words. I tightened my grip on the phone, bringing it down as I closed my eyes, taking in a staggering breath. I became hyper-aware of my body; it trembling as I felt a knot in the back of my throat, making it difficult to breathe. I could hear my name through the receiver, but there was nothing I could say as my mind had gone numb. It felt as if we just got the first diagnosis, but yet, in the time that I had been gone, it had progressed so aggressively that I couldn't help but wonder what state I had left him in, no matter how angry I was.

I felt nauseous, knowing what this meant, knowing how this would end for Charlie. His only hope for survival was going to be a transplant, one that Carlisle made very clear would not happen, not with his lifestyle. I could feel the bile churning in my stomach, burning my throat as if I were going to be sick at any second. I turned, bracing myself against the sink as my head ducked, my unsteady hand turning on the water as I cupped it in my palm, dousing my face. I coughed a few times, wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my sweater, my stomach still twisted as I brought the phone back to me.

"How long?" My words were hoarse, quiet. I could hear Carlisle sighing as if he didn't want to answer. "How long does he have?"

"It's … Hard to say. He's been put on dialysis that he will need to continue to do every two weeks to keep his liver functioning. But, my main concern is the reason why he fainted at the bar. He had a seizure."

" _Seizure?_ Is that normal?"

"For those in cirrhosis, yes. Ammonia is processed in the liver and is expelled from the body in urine. Ammonia can travel its way to the brain tissue but is removed by astrocytes. Because of the damage to his liver, he's not expelling the ammonia quick enough, which means larger amounts are getting to the brain, and it's far too much to be removed. And when there is too much ammonia, it can lead to seizures, sometimes even comas." Carlisle trailed off, leaving the information to wrack around my brain as I attempted to process it all.

I had no idea what Charlie had been doing since I left his house, and I would be a fool to think that he wouldn't revert to his old ways, but this was all too real. All the fears Carlisle told us months ago when I found Charlie on the floor was coming to a head, one that made me realize that no matter what I did or what I said, this was inevitable.

"I've stabilized him, but I don't know how long it will last until his next one, or what will even happen if he has another. For now, he's still a little foggy, but otherwise coherent. I tried to sway him to the transplant list, encouraged him to still apply, but he refused."

"I thought you said he wouldn't be approved?"

"It's unlikely. But that doesn't mean he shouldn't try. If anything, for his morale. But he seems to be very aware of his chances, and … I'm afraid he doesn't want any treatment."

"What do you mean he doesn't want it?" I asked, and Carlisle went quiet, choosing his words.

"He has filed for a DNR, in other words, a do not resuscitate."

"What? Can he do that?"

"Legally, yes," Carlisle answered. "I tried talking him out of it; he still may get a few years, even on dialysis. But, he knows his chances are low, and he'll be on the list for a while, if not for the rest of his life. He told me he didn't want that."

"So, he'd rather die?" I cried angrily, feeling a breath caught in my throat as it came up as a gasp, my hand shooting out to grip the island, stabilizing my footing.

"Bella, I know this is tough. And I know you have cut off contact with him and my nephew because of the circumstances, and I don't fault you for that. But not even Edward can get him to change his mind, and he's tried several times," The mention of Edward caused my chest to shatter, thinking of him trying to help Charlie, even during my abscense.

"What do you want me to do, Carlisle?" I asked, my voice powerless. "He doesn't want my help; he never did. What makes you think I can change his mind?"

"I don't know if you can do anything. But, I figured I had to ask."

Multiple emotions were running through me … the pain of losing my mom, the resentment of being lied to by the man I love, and my father's insistence to never do the right thing. At what point do I let go? At what point do I say enough? I was tired of holding the burden; I was tired of storing so much agony inside of me and allowing it to control every aspect of my life. Finally, I found a semblance of happiness in my job. There was light at the end of the tunnel for me but this news had all but diminished it. Why was I the one to hold Charlie accountable when he clearly had no intent on bettering himself? Why did I have to sacrifice my happiness to help him when he did nothing to help me? And despite the fear I felt, the knot in the back of my throat growing with my impending anxiety, I knew I needed to let go.

"I can't do this anymore," I whispered, shaking my head. "I'm not responsible for him."

Carlisle was quiet for a moment before he spoke, "I understand."

"Do you judge me for it?"

"No," He said pointedly. "I don't know everything that happened between the two of you, but I can put the pieces together. I'm sorry he has pushed you to this point, but I understand."

"I need to think."

"I'm here when you need me, Bella," Carlisle said as we exchanged goodbyes. Thunder rumbled in the distance as I stood alone in the kitchen. Grief washed over me as I lost my appetite, turning off the oven before disappearing into my bedroom.

 _April 2_ _nd_

I successfully wrapped my hair up into a messy bun as Phil and I worked together, moving filled boxes towards the front of the living room. The house had been sold, and Phil had bought a condo big enough for the both of us and closer to his job in downtown Phoenix. We had spent the last week packing everything and the movers were expected on Thursday. I explained to Phil that I would only be there temporarily, that once I have money saved, I would be finding my own place nearby. Phil was more than accommodating, telling me there was no rush. Truthfully, I believed a part of him didn't want me to leave. But I knew, in order for us to heal, we couldn't rely on each other as much. I needed my own place and so did he.

Phil began working on the garage as I made my way into the spare room, which Mom had turned it into an office. I brought empty boxes with me along with tape as I began placing items that were going in one box, and those that we were being donated into another. I leafed through some of the pages of our favorites before placing them into the box and taping it securely for the move. I then moved a cardboard box with my foot, eager to get those that were tucked in, collecting dust at the top. I needed a stool to complete this task, and even with the additional height, I was still using my **tiptoes** , my hand reaching up and feeling around until it landed on a thick stack of paper. Unsure of what it was, I pulled it down, inspecting what I now realized was a pile of envelopes. I stepped off the stool, noticing that there were several bunches bound by a single rubber band. I turned the front towards me as I wiped the dust off, seeing my name scratched on the front, along with my grandparent's address.

The returning address revealed that they came from Forks, and at a glance, there had to have been ten or more, all from the same handwriting with postage stamps indicating the date, some as old as the early 2000s. I moved the box out of my way, and reached for the leather chair, lowering myself into it before pulling off the rubber band. Some of them were opened, slit right down the top as others were untouched despite the dust they had collected. The one in the front was stained from white to yellow, the edges chipped and worn as if it had been handled several times. I set the others down, holding the first between my fingers, turning it to reach into the already opened back.

I pulled out the thin sheet of paper that was folded three times, dust falling from the letter and onto the desk beneath me as I read the top. It dated _September 12_ _th_ _, 2005_.

 _B,_

 _This_ _time, eleven_ _years ago, your mother and I were stranded in our Toyota during a rainstorm. You were coming whether or not we were ready_ _, and trust me,_ _I was not ready. I definitely wasn't ready to deliver_ _you by myself_ _. But I had no choice. And even_ _though, on that_ _particular day, I wasn't with you the whole time, from there on out, I spent every September 13_ _th_ _with you. I remember on your fifth birthday, we got you a marble cake that you snuck into before breakfast. And on your ninth birthday, I took you to the batting cages where a stray ball knocked you unconscious. Your mom was furious with me, but I thought we had a good laugh about it later on. I'm sorry I can't be there for your eleventh. But like delivering you that day in the rainstorm, I have no choice in this._

 _I can't call you to sing to you (phone was disconnected). But, I hope I've_ _sung_ _it enough to you that you can imagine hearing me._

 _Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear, Bells. Happy birthday to you!_

 _Love ya, kid. Sorry I couldn't be there. Hold on tight to Mr. Kitty for me._

 _Always,_

 _Dad_

I could feel a pit in my stomach, uneasiness churning inside of me as if someone stepped on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. _How have I never seen this before?_ The question loomed as I realized that this letter was sent the first birthday I had after Mom packed us in the car and drove us to Phoenix. I remember receiving birthday cards from him, but never letters. Did he add these into the envelopes and I just never read them? I wasn't sure if I ever saw Charlie write a letter a day in his life, especially one that showed emotion. I fought back the tears, trying not to think of how lonely he had to have been to sit down and write this.

I tried to digest his words, and with a shaky hand, I put the first letter to the side, grabbing the next from the stack. Opening it from the back, I pulled it out easily, uncovering the letter that dated December 20th, 2005. Only a few short weeks later.

 _B,_

 _I should be getting my phone turned_ _on, and I'm_ _going to call you soon. Maybe you can send me a letter back with your grandma's number? Thought I had it, guess I don't. How's school going? Everything is OK here. You know, I realized after I sent you the last letter for your birthday that you left Mr. Kitty here. I found him in your room under your pillow. I know how you love this damn_ _thing;_ _I'll keep him safe until you and_ _Mom_ _come home from your trip._

 _I got a job down at the plant. It's not much, but it's going to help. Thank god for Uncle Billy, he really helped me out. I'm thinking when you come home, we can go fishing with him and Jake. I know you hate the water, but I think it would be fun. Mom can come too if she can stand the smell._

 _I want you to know that I am trying really hard for you. I'm going to meetings with some special people who are going to help me. I know it's been rough for you and rough for_ _Mom_ _, but I got this. I'm going to get better and you guys can come back and we can be together again, because this being apart is for the damn birds. I miss you guys._

 _Anyways, I'm going to get us back on track. Pinky swear._

 _Merry Christmas, Bells. I got your presents here when you return. Love ya, kid._

 _Always,_

 _Dad_

I was no longer fighting the tears, feeling them drip down my cheeks as I took in a staggering breath. He was trying his best, trying to repair what he had broken while battling addiction. I remember Mom telling me he never tried to get better, that he felt it wasn't worth the time. And either she didn't know that he tried, for us, or she wrote him off despite his wanting to have his family together again.

I thought of how I left him a few months ago, how hard it was for him to show any emotion except for sarcasm and anger. But, there was a time where he was desperate to get better, for me. I reread his letter, my breathing hitching as I folded it up, moving onto the next. When I opened the envelope, there were two letters, one addressed to me and the other to my mother. The one for my mom was extremely worn as if it had been folded and unfolded hundreds of times. I set mine to the side, openings hers.

 _February 7_ _th_ _, 2006_

 _Renee,_

 _Point taken. You are still angry and I understand. Are you even letting Bella read these letters? Why haven't I heard back from her or you? Or are you intentionally doing this? That seems cruel, even for you. You cannot keep me away from our daughter, it's not fair. I haven't seen either of you since you_ _left, and I've_ _been trying my damn hardest to get on track, to stop drinking, but you are making it difficult for me. I need my_ _family; I need_ _my daughter. I need you, Renee. It's not the same here without you guys and I feel it every night. I'm fucking depressed, okay? What is the silence going to accomplish?_

 _Just give me something, anything that tells me you guys are looking at these. That's all I need. Please don't keep our daughter away from me, no matter how much shit I've put the two of you through. I'm trying to be a better_ _man, and I_ _would like you to help me with that. I know you need your time and space and I respect it but enough is enough._

 _I love you. And I miss you so damn much. I miss you being here next to_ _me; I miss_ _the way you smell and the sound of your laugh. This house is so damn cold without you._

 _Please, give me something. Give me anything. Help me._

 _Always_

 _Charlie_

I felt my stomach twist, imagining my mother reading this and ignoring it, even as he begged. I couldn't imagine her being so callous to dismiss him when he was trying. The thought of it made me feel ill, and so not to dwell on it, I picked up my letter and unfolded it. The tone was different, he asked me more questions about school if I had been making any friends. He mentioned nothing about Mom and at the end, told me he missed me. The next envelope was immediately in my hands and just like the second one, there were two letters inside. I pried open the one for my mom, scanning the words.

 _March 1_ _st_ _, 2006_

 _Renee,_

 _I can't believe you are doing this. We've only been separated for six_ _months, and you_ _already want a divorce? Do you not even want to try? For us? For Bella? You said in your letter you are trying to protect her, but protect her from what? From me? Was I really that bad that you are trying to shield me from my own daughter? What kind of fucked up world are you living in, Renee? How is that going to accomplish anything_ _except hurt her and me?_

 _Yes, I relapsed, but I am back on track. You can tell Sue to mind her damn business. And I don't need you throwing it in my face every_ _time; it wasn't_ _that long ago you were struggling right alongside me. Maybe you're the bigger person for getting better, but this whole situation makes you just as shitty as me._

 _I want you to give Bella the letters, I know you haven't been. Take away your frustration and hatred for me and think about our_ _daughter, who probably_ _is feeling like I don't give a shit. You're lucky I'm not closer, then you wouldn't have an upper hand. You're afraid I'm going to poison her, but this whole situation is going to make her resentful._

 _You can't do this, Renee. You know I have nothing. I'm begging you._

 _Charlie_

I sat there, absorbing in the words that my father wrote on the piece of paper. My fingers traced the indents of the pen, the pad of my thumb ghosting over the words _I'm begging you_. His second letter to her indicated that she did indeed respond, and I mulled over the words she could have written. From his response, it seemed as if she was intentionally keeping me from him, a theory that made me feel uneasy. I set the letter to the side and read my own, a stark contrast to the one for my mother. It was light-hearted, he spoke of the freak winter storm they had, of how the neighbors were doing and how his job was going. The letters following were still filled with hopefulness as he indicated several times about when Mom and I would return, even though it never happened.

Letters for Renee ceased, and he only addressed me going forward. The bulk of his letters were written and sent in 2006, sometimes even upwards to four times a month. But the closer I got to 2007, I had noticed the time between letters increasing. They became shorter, and his handwriting was messier. I had wondered if he had begun to give up, realizing that we weren't coming back. I reached the envelopes that were unopened and was down to the last two of the pile.

 _November 3_ _rd_ _, 2006_

 _B,_

 _Holidays are coming up. I'm_ _hoping_ _to see you, maybe you can convince your mom to fly you up to visit? I'd hate to spend another_ _Christmas_ _alone. But that's not your fault. Did you get the birthday card? I know it's not much, but I saw it at the store when I was picking up things and the picture of the cat made me think of you._

 _Love ya, kid._

 _P.S. found this in the kitchen drawer, thought you'd like to have it._

 _Always,_

 _Dad_

I peeked into the envelope, reaching for the small polaroid picture that was faded from time, but still showing a younger Charlie laying in the same recliner he has owned since 94', fast asleep with an infant on his chest, the two bundled up together. At the bottom in black ink were four words scribbled across.

 _Me and you, kid_.

The tears slipped from the corner of my eyes; my breathing ragged as I brought the picture closer. How could she have done this to him? I was lost, confused, unsure of what to believe as I was left to piece together a story that I knew nothing about. I wiped my nose with the sleeve of my sweater and with a shaky hand, grabbed the last letter in the pile. I turned it, my fingernail sliding underneath the seal as I pried it open, pulling out the last piece of paper.

 _December 25_ _th_ _, 2007_

 _B,_

 _I'm sorry I'm not with you today. Shitty hand I was dealt, huh? I don't think your mom is changing her mind. Don't know if you'll even read this._

 _For what it's worth, I didn't want this life._

 _I wish I could change it all for the two of you, but I think I've screwed it all up. I know I put you guys through hell. I wish I could take it back._

 _I hope you do great things. Better things that I could only ever dream about. I think you can._

 _Look after yourself and don't take shit from anyone._

 _Love ya, kid. Pinky swear._

 _Always,_

 _Dad_

The old Grandfather clock in the corner ticked by painstakingly slow as I sat, paralyzed, the letters scattered around me, the photo of my father and I still clutched in my fingers. The questions I had were unending, and I wasn't sure I would ever receive an answer as they died right along with my mother. Still, I was reeling, a crack in my chest unearthing a feeling I had lost long ago for Charlie. _Pity_. It was clear that not only did he want me in his life but that our distance pained him and that my mother was unwilling to forgive his sins to let me around. And for the first time since her death, I found myself genuinely angry with her.

"Bella, you hungry for lunch –" Phil rounded the corner, stopping at the doorframe, his eyes surveying the mess I had created. "What are those?"

I swallowed hard. "Letters. From Charlie."

Phil's face paled, the realization setting in of what I had found. I knew immediately that these letters were no secret to him. And once again, I felt my heart drop, the lies that everyone surrounded me in almost too thick to look past.

"Did you know about these?" I questioned my voice breaking. Phil stayed silent, leaning against the doorframe as he exhaled, scrubbing his hands over his eyes. "Did you know about these, Phil?" I asked again, my voice louder as I stood from the chair. His arm fell, his body pushing off the frame as he walked towards me. He looked down at the letters, nodding his head as he rubbed his chin.

"I knew," He answered, his voice low. I looked around at the letters that were scattered, picking up different ones while still holding the polaroid in my hand.

"Why am I just now seeing these? Over ten years later?"

"She didn't want you to see them. I thought she got rid of them."

"Why was she hiding these from me?" My voice was low, unveiling my anger and frustration. Phil shook his head, looking at me as if he were just as lost as I was. Because the only two people who had all the answers were either dead or a thousand miles away. "She purposefully kept them from me, hid them away while Charlie begged to see me."

"She was protecting you."

"Bullshit!" I spat. Phil sighed again, holding his hands up in surrender as I held a threatening stance, angry at my mother, angry at him for keeping me away from the truth. "It's one lie after the next … I'm tired of being told something other than the truth. I'm tired of people keeping things from me because they think it's for the better. It's not fair."

"It's not."

"Then tell me why. You must know something … She had to tell you something … you knew about the letters. Why did she do this? Why did she keep me from him and lead me to believe that he didn't give a shit?"

"The letters came before me, Bella. By the time I was in the picture, he had stopped trying," He answered. "Your mother…" He paused, hesitating. "Your mother was trying to protect you. I'm not saying it was right, but that's what she felt. And you know how she got when she felt passionate about something," He countered, something I could relate to. Mom stuck to her beliefs no matter what, very rarely wavering. "She told me about the letters, she felt guilty keeping them from you, but she thought if she gave them to you, you would want to see him. And she didn't want you to get hurt. After all the shit he put you through, can you blame her?"

"She is not a victim in this, Phil," I growled, angrily. "Before her sobriety, she was _just_ as bad."

"I'm not saying she is a victim, but she got through it. She got better, and he didn't. He chose not to and that's what she was protecting you from."

"But he did try! He went to meetings and got sober! She had no right," I stifled a cry, shaking my head. "This whole time, all these letters and I had no idea. Why would she lie to me?" Resting my face in my palms, my stomach felt nauseous, my throat choking on the cries I tried to keep quiet. "Everything is so messed up. All of this," I sobbed, looking up at him.

What I said next was calculated. If no one would be honest with me, then I needed to be honest with them. There was no more tiptoeing around this issue, no more hiding it to spare feelings.

"Did you know that Charlie was here? He came to Phoenix before she died," I admitted, releasing the secrets I knew to absolve myself of this pain. But Phil was quiet, staying still and unmoving as he watched me just before looking away as if he were aching. "That's the reason I left Forks… Because I found out. I found out Charlie lied to me. He came here when he was drunk out of his mind, begging for her to come back. And he said something that triggered her, he said something that made her relapse and that's why she died!" I choked, feeling the words gurgle in my throat as I took in a sharp inhale of breath, wiping away my tears as I cursed, standing from the chair and pushing it angrily away from me.

I ended up by the window, leaning against the sill as the warmth leaked into the room, tingling my skin. I groaned against my palms, scrubbing away at the wetness of my cheeks, frustrated at exposing myself in my most vulnerable way, even to Phil. I turned to him, his eyes watching me cautiously, but mercifulness behind them.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"What was the point? It would only hurt you."

"Then, can't you see why your mother kept the truth from you?"

"It's not the same, and you know it," I bit furiously. "If Charlie had said something to set her off, telling you wouldn't change anything. She's dead, and there is no bringing her back. I missed out on years with my father, _who was alive_ , because she didn't want me around him."

Phil thought on this for a moment, staying still until he nodded his head. "You left Forks because you thought Charlie had something to do with her death?" He asked in clarification. I stayed silent. "Charlie isn't at fault, Bella. He didn't put the pills in her mouth."

"He might as well have."

"No," Phil shook his head. "It feels like that, but there was… _So_ much more going on. Things you don't even know," He said as I scoffed, the irony of him telling me I was unaware of other variables not surprising. "I know, Bella. I know he came here," He whispered, crossing his arms over his chest. I watched him, dumbfounded at his words.

" _You know?_ "

"Yes. I know," He grabbed the chair on the other side, settling down as he rested his arms onto the desk, watching me with soft, gray eyes. A sadness wafted within him, as if he was struggling just as much as me. "It wasn't just the one time … Him showing up wasn't out of the blue. I don't really know how it started or who started it. But … Your mother and I were not in a good spot. She had a few rough months at work and with your Gram, and I was away a lot. You moved out and she was just … lonely. I should have paid more attention to the signs," He paused, stewing in the guilt of his own words before clearing his throat, **reining** back his attention. "She blamed me for abandoning her, told me she was struggling and I blew her off. I thought she was just being dramatic; it wasn't unlike her to make a huge thing out of something small. But then, I found messages from him on her phone and confronted her. She admitted they had been talking for weeks. She said she just needed someone to listen to her."

"Was it romantic?"

"I don't think so," Phil hesitated, unsure of the answer. "I don't know … And I don't think I want to know. At least, not on her end," He admitted as I continued to lean against the still, staring at my clasped hands. "She told me she got caught up in the past, that her loneliness made her do things she wouldn't normally do. I thought it was a bunch of bull, but I don't know if I blamed her for it. She was right; I ignored her when she needed me. I thought she was just going through a down time; she's had them before. And when I confronted her, she cut it off, but the damage was done. We were separated for a while after that."

"What?" I hissed, thinking briefly back to the few times I caught him without his wedding ring, chalking it up to him working in the garage or just coming from the shower. "How long?"

"It wasn't long. A few months, maybe. We were working through it, and she tried, but I knew she was still depressed. I begged her to see a therapist but she blew it off every time," He scratched at his scruff, rubbing at his eyes as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I didn't know she was using again. I suspected it, but I didn't know. I confronted her and she ignored me. And when Charlie showed up … She told me about it, told me she sent him away, to wherever it was … She found out he ended up in jail and begged me to bail him out. And that's how it was with her. She was angry one minute, and then filled with guilt the next. She was always up and down, Bella, especially at the end."

I stayed quiet, motionless, because I couldn't deny what he was hinting at. My mother was a free spirit; she marched to the beat of her own drum, something that I was envious of. She was fiery, passionate, headstrong, and stubborn. But as quick as she was to show those traits, it was just as quick for her to change them. If things weren't going her way, or if someone had said or done something she didn't like, she was defensive … argumentative, sometimes even emotional for no reason. She had bipolar tendencies, something I wondered if she was born with or had gradually adopted over time, especially with her addictions. I had mulled over these thoughts for some years, especially when I was at the other end of her anger. It didn't happen often, but enough for me to notice the red flags.

I leaned myself off of the sill, walking back to the desk as I sat down into the chair, slumping forward to rest my elbows on my knees, resting my forehead in my palm as I tried to absorb all of the information, digest it in any way I knew how.

"After Charlie left, I barely saw her."

" _I_ barely saw her," I admitted, remembering the last month of her life, no defined memory of when we had last spoken. It was more than likely something casual, maybe a text message or a quick phone call … nothing of significant importance, which left me feeling empty.

"Your mother was an addict, Bella. And she got over it. But she relapsed. I don't think she meant to kill herself. I think she was sad, and she used the pills to help her and she became careless," He whispered as fresh tears made their way down my swollen checks, a choking sob escaping me. "I know she didn't want it around you. And she didn't want it around me. She distanced herself from us to save us from the truth."

"It isn't fair. None of this is fair."

"I know."

"Why didn't she want me to help her?"

"I don't know," He answered honestly, tears slipping out of the corner of his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you explain this all to me after she died?" I questioned.

"Like you said: What was the point? Nothing would bring her back. And I thought it would bring more heartbreak than clarity. I didn't want you to think she was a liar, and I didn't want you to resent her for everything. That's why she cut us off. She was trying to get better," He explained as I shook my head.

"It was just a lie. It was all a lie; _everyone_ has lied to me. She lied to me about Charlie and he lied to me about her. Edward lied about what he knew and so did you."

"Edward?" He questioned; the name unfamiliar to him. I bit my tongue, cursing at myself for slipping up.

"It was … a _friend_ , in Forks. He was Charlie's sponsor," I explained. "We got close, and he knew Charlie was down here, but he didn't say anything to me."

"I know you feel lied to, and I get it; all I can do is apologize. Our intention, even speaking for everyone else, was not to hurt you. It was actually the opposite. It was to shield you from a horrible truth that would only cause you pain. Your mother was sick, Bella. Addiction is a disease and it was winning. It killed her," He trailed off, watching me intently. I stayed still, thinking back to when I found her, thinking of how she left me. The memory would stay with me forever, etched into my mind like a scar. Despite the lies and the agony it put me through, I knew that in the pit of my soul, their intentions were good — even Charlie's.

"It's killing him," I answered as Phil watched me with a fixed stare. "I got a call from his doctor a few days ago. He's dying."

"Why are you here, Bella?" Phil challenged.

"I don't think I can face him," I whispered honestly. "Not after everything I said before I left. And now, the letters …"

"That's a bullshit answer, and you know it," He huffed, shaking his head. His tone had turned glacial, his stance stilling as his eyes glared at me. "Haven't you learned anything from your mother's death?"

"Don't compare it," I warned him.

"We had the signs with her that we chose to ignore. And we acted surprised when she died, but my instincts told me she was using again, and I disregarded them. The last few months of her life were spent arguing and fighting over things so superficial and I wish every day that I could get just a minute back with her to tell her I love her. To forget about everything that happened and just hold her and tell her how much I cared. Because at the end of the day, that was all she needed," His tone had turned sad, his eyes pleading as I felt it in my core, his words resonating with me despite my walls trying to cast them out. "You don't get by in life staying resentful, Bella. Learn to let things that don't matter go. I'm not telling you to forget, but you need to forgive."

I fell silent, staring at the letters scattered in front of me across the mahogany wood, the paper faded from white to yellow from age. The man who wrote these letters was different on the outside from the man I took care of in Forks. The man in the letters was desperate to be with his daughter while the other was desperate for her to stay out of his business. He had grown a thick skin, coming to terms with the fact that I was gone from his life. He thought it was a choice I had made freely when in reality, I never knew he cared. It was painful growing up, feeling as if you weren't worth the time and effort for a parent to fight for you. That's how it was with Charlie, before I knew of these letters.

He tried. He was unsuccessful, but he tried.

I thought back to when I arrived in Forks, the shock and irritation that clouded over us as we both tried to find a middle ground. The man who wrote those letters was gone from sight, huffing when I tried to help, but slivers of a paternal nature shined through, even if just for a second. It was the small moments that made me realize that despite the history, he still cared.

We grew closer, despite my uneasiness towards it. I forced myself to help him out of the memory of my mother. But even I could admit that my fight was to ensure I wouldn't lose two parents, something I realized I was failing at miserably. Take my anger and my resentment away and I still had a dying father. I acted as if I didn't care, as if losing him would be nothing more than losing something unremarkable.

 _That's not me_.

The thought made my hands shake as I held them close to me, trying to soothe the nausea that crept at the bottom of my stomach, licking the back of my throat.

"Bella," Phil interrupted my thoughts, bringing me to attention. His features were soft as if he could sense my conflict. Slowly, he stood, staring down at me with a look of compassion.

"Don't let your last words to him be in anger. _Trust me_ , that's a guilt you don't want to have on your shoulders. You need to let it go. You need to be with him."

 _April 3_ _rd_

It was nearing evening when I reached my terminal and found a secluded seat near the large windows, the Arizona sunset painting the sky red. While I knew I was doing the right thing, I still felt hesitant. The lies that had surrounded me were still sensitive to grapple with and I instinctively wanted to remain angry. Phil would say that even though he loved my mother wholeheartedly, that was the worst of her traits. She spent time holding grudges that weren't necessary and not worth the time. He begged me not to give in to the same feelings and remember that forgiveness is warm and needed.

I had looked up just as a plane took off, and just a few feet in front of me, a father and his daughter watched in delight, the two pointing to the plane as it caught air, flying into the clouds. The man kissed her on her chubby cheek before pulling her into his arms, taking her back to the mother who watched them from the seat nearby, a loving smile gracing her lips. I watched them for a moment longer, as if to torture myself, as the father held the child on his lap, the mother reaching over to kiss the top of her head. I looked away from the private moment, a twist in my stomach longing for something I never had. A few text messages came in from Phil, as if he could sense my dilemma. _You can do this_. I wrote a short thank you before opening my contacts, my lips pressing together as I tapped my thumb along the side of my phone.

I scrolled through the list of names, stopping just short of the one I knew I needed to call. I pressed down, the call screen appearing as I brought it to my ear. It rang only a few times until it was picked up, a familiar voice coming through.

"Dr. Cullen," He said, his tone short.

"Carlisle," I said after a beat, my voice shaky.

"Bella?"

"How is he?" I asked, leaning my elbows onto my knees as I closed my eyes, hoping I wasn't too late. The thought set an anxiety inside of me that until now, I didn't realize I had. _What if I was too late?_ What if the last words he heard from me were in anger? What if we never had a chance to make our peace, and just like my mother, words were left unspoken?

"He's here tonight," He began, an audible breath releasing from my lips. "He wanted to be at home, but he was in a lot of pain. I've got him on morphine to relax him, but I'm afraid it's not looking good, Bella."

"Do you think …" I paused, holding in a staggering breath at the realization that I would soon lose him too. I just only hoped I could make it in time. "Do you think he can make it until tomorrow?" Just as I asked my question, the speaker above came to life.

 _Alaskan Airline, flight 990 from Phoenix to_ _Seattle,_ _is to start boarding in ten minutes._

"I'll let him know to wait, if he can," Carlisle's tone had softened, a comfort relieving the nerves that were alight like live wires. "Do you need me to pick you up, or can I send someone?" There was meaning in his tone and I knew to who he was referring. The possibility of seeing Edward had never left my mind; in fact, it was a welcomed thought, despite my anger. But, I wasn't sure I could handle him being the first one I saw. I needed to get to Charlie.

"No, I'm going to rent a car at the airport. I should be in around midnight. Will it be okay if I come straight to the hospital?"

"Of course. I'll be here for you when you arrive," Carlisle and I ended the conversation, the phone screen disappearing as my voicemail box appeared, the red bubble with the number one beckoning for me to touch it.

I missed his voice, missed his presence. I was reminded of Phil's words about not holding grudges … to learn to let things go. And I wanted to let my anger go. Starting with Charlie, and ending with Edward. Hesitantly, I grazed over it before pressing down, the message coming to life as his voice filtered through the receiver, immediately bringing tears to my eyes.

"Bella, I don't even know where to start. God, I," He stopped, tripping over his words as his tone sounded dejected, strained. _I missed him so much_. "I'm so sorry for everything. I should have told you the moment I realized what happened, I know I should have. And I know you are trying to wrap your head around the reasons I didn't, but I trusted when I shouldn't have. And I know if it were me, I'd need space to think too. I know you are hurting … But, I hope you know… I hope you know that no matter what, I never wanted that."

"I never wanted you to doubt me and, _shit_ ," Tears had appeared in my eyes as I heard him choke up, wiping away the ones that escaped down my cheek. "I need you to know there is more to the story. Things that Charlie doesn't want to tell you, but I don't want to lie to you anymore. I'll tell you anything you want to hear. I just need you to call me back. Just, call me back. I love you."

* * *

 _AN: I hope this extra long chapter makes up for my three month hiatus! I apologize for the abrupt departure. I had a lot of personal things going on that kept me away from writing._

 _Thank you to you all who continue to support me and this story. Those who favorite, follow and review - I am so in love with each of you!_

 _To Fran, who always gives me the best feedback on how to improve._

 _Only two more chapters and an epilogue left._

 _Until next time,_

 _ii_


	23. Home

_Chapter Song - The Wisp Sings by Winter Aid_

 _Let me sleep,_  
 _I am tired of my grief._  
 _And I would like you  
To love me, to love me, to love me._

* * *

It was nearing one in the morning when I reached Forks, passing the welcome sign as rain spit against the window, drenching every ounce of the town. I craned my neck, rubbing with my fingers to relieve the stiffness, but the restlessness was settling in my bones. I spent the four-hour drive in silence, watching trees pass by, the sun setting as the moon rose high, lighting the way. Unanswered questions overran my brain, the unknown leaving me apprehensive.

Did he know I was on the way? Was he nervous? Thankful? _Was he even alive?_ The hurried thought brought a quiet sob to my lips, my hand lifting to hush the sound. I struggled, battling the anxiety that held me hostage, increasing by tenfold as I entered downtown Forks, getting closer to the hospital.

I thought back to when I last saw Charlie, the look on his face as the truth unveiled itself, the way he watched me leave, with no intent on coming back. I packed my bags and walked out the front door, seeing his silhouette in the window as he watched me go. I had no longer listened to reason or tried to digest the motives of why he did what he did; all I knew, all I cared about was that he had lied. And he lied for months. The hurt that washed over me was far more powerful than anything I have ever felt apart from my mother's passing.

And he wasn't the only one.

Masen's was still open, the sign lit up against the inky black night, but I kept my eyes forward, willing myself not to look. Because if I did, I'd look above, hoping for a light to cascade through the industrial windows, to tell me he was still there. And if he was, I would stop. I would have walked right in, up the stairs to find him in the kitchen, or on his couch, maybe even at the end of his bed, as if he had been waiting for me this whole time. I slowed, but did not stop, pushing past the building as tears sprung to my eyes. I couldn't cloud my thoughts on him, not when Charlie needed me. And for all I knew, he could have left, gone to San Francisco on his own, even though that had been _our_ plan.

The thought made me sick, but like me, the memories here were too painful. Leaving them behind seemed to be the only way forward.

It was only moments later I arrived at the hospital, finding a space in the empty lot and shifting the car into park. The neon light of the sign reflected against my pale skin, making it glow. I was paralyzed, unable to find the courage to move my legs. The window of the car was cracked open and from the forest that surrounded the building, sounds of critters and insects composed a symphony-like song, a cool breeze wafting in, causing my skin to pebble. I looked down at my hand as it rests on top of the latch, trembling with nerves as my right hand came to cover it, helping until I heard a _pop_. The door opened, and slowly, I unbuckled, stepping out.

Hesitantly, I moved, clutching my arms together, crossing over my chest as I faltered just outside the glass door. I read the sign of the hospital almost ten times, moving out of the way as someone exited, their eyes resting on me for just a moment until they moved on.

 _Get a grip_ _on_ _yourself, Bella._

With one, hearty breath, I stepped forward. The doors slid open, allowing me access as I entered, the sounds of the outside disappearing, the news playing on the TV in the corner for the few people who sat in the waiting room. Nails clicked against a keyboard as I moved closer to the front desk, an older woman looking up at me behind her glasses.

"I'm here to see Charlie Swan; he was admitted the other night," I said, my voice cracking just at the end as I cleared my throat.

"Relation?" She asked.

"Daughter."

"Bella," I turned to see Carlisle walking around the desk with a colleague. Quietly, he said something under his breath, and the unknown doctor nodded to him in acknowledgment, briefly glancing at me as he turned, heading in the opposite direction.

Carlisle was warm, despite being dressed in all white, his smile made him human, his bright blue eyes catching the fluorescent lighting, making them sparkle. My lips twitched, but I didn't smile, finding no energy to do as he reached me, clasping his hands on my shoulders before pulling me into a hug. I reached one arm up, the comfort he emitted thawing me as he held on tightly, as if he knew I needed it. When he pulled away, he didn't lose his smile, but I could sense the despondency behind it, as if he had no good news to give me.

"Is he…?"

"He's awake," He nodded as I felt a breath of relief leave me. "I had Dr. Reynolds go check on him. I didn't tell him you were coming."

I looked at him with surprise but quickly tilted my chin, chewing on my chapped bottom lip. "What can I expect?"

"He's lost a significant amount of weight, so that may be a little jarring when you see him. His skin is jaundiced, and he has a lot of wires attached to him," He said as I felt my stomach churn. "But, the good news is that he is coherent. He may speak a little slower, but he is very aware of what is going on around him."

"Did you not expect him to be?"

"Someone who refuses treatment, such as dialysis, can suffer symptoms such as disorientation and confusion. How remarkable that Charlie, out of the odds, can keep his wit and mind about him," Carlisle laughed as I stayed motionless, picking at the hem of my shirt. Carlisle, sensing my uneasiness, set him palm back onto my shoulder, saying my name to gain my attention. "I know this is hard. And I want you to know that since you've been gone, he's brought you up in conversation almost every day."

Carlisle had struck a chord, but I held in my reaction. Taking in a staggering breath, I looked down, exhaling in with a soft cry just before shaking my head, willing myself to find the strength I wasn't sure I had.

"You are doing the right thing, Bella."

I nodded, feeling the tightness in my stomach as Carlisle walked me down the hallway. He stopped a few rooms down, indicating where Charlie was staying, leaving me to walk the rest of the way on my own. My steps were only inches apart, my nerves getting the best of me as I moved closer to the open doorway, hearing the sports channel blaring from the hall.

Nothing had prepared me for this.

Not even Carlisle's warning.

This time, I did audibly gasp, my hands clutching the doorframe as I looked at a man who was almost unrecognizable. His cheeks were sunken in, the bones defined by shadows as the color under his eyes faded from purple to blue. He was in a gown, the blanket bunched to his chest as his arms were dangerously thin, his wrist bones protruding from his yellow skin. The amount of weight he had lost was overwhelming; every part of him changed, as if he were a completely different person. He was small, fragile, a shell of the man I had left back in November and the sight of him _broke_ me.

He was dying.

And I knew it. I had known it since Carlisle had told me, but seeing him like this … It was real. This was real. And there was nothing I could do to help him.

I tried to control myself, holding in my breath as if not to cry, but it escaped my lips in a staggered hiss, Charlie's eyes flying open, glassy and red, a look of shock coming over him as he watched me in the doorway. He went to move, as if to lift himself to get a better view because like me, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. But he was too weak, his body halting and freezing and he fell back into the bed, his mouth slacked open as if he tried to say words that wouldn't leave his tongue.

I held in my tears, holding them back as I moved in the direction of the bed, pausing at the end of it, unsure if I should or even wanted to continue. He had plastic tubes and wires all around him, ones that even circled his head, entering his nose. The closer I reached, the more it revealed, and it was heartbreaking.

I had once thought he was invincible. That no matter how much he put in his body, it never seemed to cripple him. How fragile he looked now and how wrong I had been then.

Charlie's expression settled, as if the shock had worn off and he decided that it was true, I was really here standing in front of him. His body began to relax, his mustache twitching as he closed his eyes, his lips turning upwards into the smirk I had seen so many times before.

"You're… here." His voice was low, graveled, but I could hear his amusement. "I can't believe you came back."

"Carlisle called," I answered.

"Ironic, huh?" He asked as my brow arched as if I didn't understand. He lifted his arms, tubes, and wires moving with him. "You were a pain in my … ass, but you saw this coming." He chuckled, it leaving his nose in a breath as I remained still.

"You should listen to me more."

"Your hair is longer." He changed the subject as I looked down to my shoulders, and with my pointer finger and thumb, I grabbed ahold of a lock before glancing back to him.

"I haven't cut it since I've left," I said, dropping the strand. Charlie nodded, looking as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. I turned, grabbing the chair in the corner and sliding it to the edge of the bed to sit. Eye-level with him now, I could see the faults in his skin, how his deteriorating health had aged him by years. His peppered hair was slicked back, the wrinkles in his skin hanging off his bones, dark spots decorating and contrasting against the yellow.

It was painful to see.

"I told Carlisle not … to call you," His words were cut with deep breaths, his inhale shaky as if he were too weak even to breathe. "Should have known he wouldn't have … listened." He turned to stare at the ceiling, just before letting out a gruff laugh that made him wince in pain, it evolving into a fit of coughs, his bottom lip quivering. I helped him with his water, reaching over to hand him his cup before settling back down, watching as he took a large chug. He coughed into the cup, and I noticed through the white cardboard, it had stained red from blood, my breath seizing in my throat. I shifted in my seat, crossing one leg over the other as I rested my forearms on top of it, willing myself not to cry as he set his cup back down with a shaky hand, his body relaxing.

"I wasn't going to come. I just started a job, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to face you."

His chin tilted as if he was nodding. "What job?" He asked, ignoring my last comment.

"At a publishing company, I read over manuscripts and edits." I said, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Publishing?"

"That's what I went to school for; you know that," I told him as his eyes began to squint, the crow's feet in the corners becoming more prominent as he tried to remember. I had spoken to him about this before, Carlisle had even mentioned that Charlie had brought up my schooling in conversation. But, he had also said that with liver disease, those could also suffer from confusion and memory loss, so I didn't take it personally. I inhaled sharply, smoothing down my shirt before looking to him. "How are you feeling?"

Charlie laughed, as much as he could, before letting out a soft groan indicating pain. His hand lifted as if he knew I was going to stand to help. He grumbled under his breath, assuring me he was fine before he relaxed back into the pillows, his dark eyes swiveling to mine as a small smirk played at the corner of his lips. "I could go for a shot of … whiskey."

"That's not funny." I deadpanned as the smile widened, a smile I had seen before. He was still the same Charlie, making light of a horrible situation, and I couldn't help but feel the room become lighter. Despite the tension, I tried to hide my smile, the moment almost releasing and relaxing. And for the first time in a very long time, we were laughing together. His were quiet, as if not to send himself in another coughing fit as I leaned back into my seat, rubbing at my eyes as I shook my head.

"I didn't think this would happen so soon," I admitted openly, watching his wiry mustache twitch.

"But you knew it would … happen." He nodded, pointing a finger towards me, the lightness being sucked back out of the room. His smile still played on the corner of his lips, as if he enjoyed the moment just as much as I did, but reality had begun to set in, the beeping from the machines just to the side of him sounding off in a rhythm.

"Yes." I answered.

"Too smart for your damn good. Just like when … you were a kid." I could see his smile turn sad, `but he quickly masked it. I lifted my chin from my hands, turning to the window as rain dripped down the glass. _A kid_. It had seemed like a lifetime ago the three of us lived here in Forks together. For so long, I was clouded by the bad memories. Taking care of my parents at the tender age of five, making sure they didn't kill themselves when all I wanted was to be held by them, be a family. I didn't deserve that childhood, but I knew it wasn't all unkind.

"On my way here, I was thinking about the trip we went on when I was, I think, seven?" I trailed off in question, trying to take myself back to the memory. "We went camping, even though mom hated it."

"It was her idea." He voiced.

"It was?"

"It was the only thing we could … afford. And she wanted to do something together."

"You guys were trying to stay sober."

" _Tried_."

"It was the thought that counted," I admitted, picking at the loose threads of the thin hospital sheet under my arms. I could hear his breathing, it rasped with every inhale, his eyes watching me as my head tilted in my palm, looking to him. "I remember you and I taking a canoe to the island across the water." I smiled at the memory, his lips reflecting it with a deep chuckle.

"I don't think we made it, did we?" He asked, trying to remember.

"No, I got sick, threw up over the side and in the water."

"That's right." He laughed under his breath.

"When we got back, Mom had finished dinner, burnt hamburgers," My tongue stuck out at the thought, and Charlie snorted, nodding his head.

"She was a shitty cook."

"She didn't get any better with time," I snorted. "I remember the three of us making s'mores and then catching fireflies with her in the field."

"You never … wanted to keep them," His last word left in a breath, wheezing out from his lips.

"It didn't seem right." Most kids would keep them in jars, a few holes punctured at the top, watching in fascination as they lit-up until they died. It was a morbid thought to me. Having them in my hands, watching as they illuminated my skin, was enough to keep me happy.

"Big heart, like your … mother."

"After you put out the campfire, we sat in the bed of the pick-up and watched the stars. You taught me some constellations, and you and Mom argued over big and little dipper, which was which," I waved, watching the corner of his lips that still showed a smile, but my trailing voice indicated that while I was fond of the memory, it was just that. _A memory_. "I remember thinking … This must be what it is like to have a normal family."

Charlie was still for a moment, his sight unwavering as a muscle twitched in his bottom lip twitched, a grimace appearing at the once happy memory tainted with the realization that it would never happen again. "Nothing normal about us." He admitted.

"I wanted to be normal," I said, catching his sight. "Mom and I woke up the next morning, and you were gone. You left us to go get liquor. We didn't see you for three days," My point was not to be accusatory, but Charlie had looked down, his face pained at the recollection.

"That was our normal. And if it wasn't you, it was her. When things got bad, I would think of that trip, and I would wish we could go back to it because …" I stopped, my words caught in my throat as I tried to swallow the pain, looking away to shield myself from him to hide my reaction. "… Because that was as close to a normal family as I would get."

"We'd be … boring as hell." Charlie argued.

"We'd be happy."

"You don't know that." He began. "Sure, we may not have been raging … drunks but we could have been too boring for our own good. So boring, we'd have no … stories to tell. And because of the whiskey, we have a lot of them." He was being funny, his smile shining as I scrunched my nose.

"That's _not_ funny." I repeated, hiding my laughter behind the fabric of my sleeve. Charlie shook his head, but still kept his eyes on me. Silence hung around, the moment disappearing as we watched each other.

"Who cares about normal, Bella. Sure … we were fucked up. But we can't change what happened. No point on dwelling on it."

"You don't think about that?" I asked. "How it could have been different?"

"I'm lying on my death bed … peeing out of a tube, of course I thought about. But it doesn't matter."

He was being funny, trying to avoid allowing himself to feel something. Charlie didn't handle sadness well. Or regret. Or even anger. The moment he felt, he would drown it, extinguish it, and kill it with his poison. But now, he didn't have the whiskey to hide behind. He had no choice but to feel. He tried to mask it, cover it with his sarcasm but even that wasn't working. I could feel his uneasiness, but I wouldn't allow his insecurities to dictate what I needed to say. I wouldn't allow our last words to be superficial, dancing around the real issue at hand because he couldn't handle it. No… He would listen. He would feel with me. I was going to make sure of it.

"Why didn't you listen to me?" My voice was broken, just above a whisper as he looked away, blinking up at the ceiling as if he wished he was anywhere but here.

"I did." He was quiet, but I scowled at him.

"You didn't do anything about it."

"I'm an alcoholic. And you are no … miracle worker," His fingers were clenched in his sheets, his knuckles turning from yellow to white as I watched him swallow. His eyes closed, and I could see his lips moving, as if he were contemplating something. The silence became deafening and just as I went to carry on the conversation, he spoke. "I'm sorry I disappointed you."

Charlie rarely apologized.

I would never forget this, I was sure of it.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help you more." I confessed, his eyes shooting open and then turning to me. He made a noise under his breath, between a chuckle and a gruff as his head laid back down against the pillow, the moment turning light.

"Look at us. Quite a pair." His head lolled back to me just as I tilted up, our eyes connecting. He had a smile, but it was weak, almost indifferent, the pain of our past communicating by just a simple look. I leaned forward, resting my elbows at the edge of the bed as I looked at him, resting my chin against my fingers.

 _Quite a pair_. We were damaged, dysfunctional from our traumas, but that's what made us similar. They were different battles we faced, but the pain was the same. I tried so hard thinking of all the ways we were different; I never stopped to think of all the ways we were the same. I was a product of my father, more so than my mother. Recluse and a loner, we put up walls to shield ourselves. We didn't let anyone in, not without a fight, because there was a hidden fear that if we were too open, it would come back and hurt us. My mother was quite the opposite, eccentric and brave; I could never be her.

No, I was my father's daughter. And we had been in pain for too long. It was now or never.

"I found the letters," The words came out before I could process them. They were a whisper, but the room was so quiet, I knew he had heard me. Charlie stayed stoic, his grip lessening on his sheets, letting them go. "Did you know she hid them from me?"

Recognition fell over him, and he turned, his eyes studying every part of my face. Maybe, he felt it too … Saw our similarities. I was sure he would try to avoid having this conversation, but instead, he nodded his head.

"That's why I came back."

"You shouldn't have. There's … nothing here for you." His voice was coarse again, defensive. As if he were angry I was here. I felt it; it was palpable in the room. I could feel him opening up, despite his wishes. He winced, as if he were in pain, readying himself for my response.

"A week ago, I would have agreed with you," I admitted, allowing the room to quiet. "Why didn't you tell me about them?"

He did say anything at first and instead watched the wall near the door, nurses and doctors walking by, not paying an ounce of attention to us. His breathing was shallow, his red, glassy eyes solemn as his lips parted. "I didn't want you to think of her differently."

"She shouldn't have done that," I told him.

"I can take your anger, Bella," He ignored me, his head turning in my direction. "I spent a lot of time … coming to terms with the fact I wouldn't have a relationship with you … I learned to be lonely. I learned how to live with myself, and I understand it wasn't the best … way, but I still learned."

"That wasn't fair to you." I said, trying to help him realize that for once, _he_ wasn't the one who was wrong.

"But would … it have been fair to you?"

"I deserved the truth."

"You did. But you also deserved a … normal life, one she was willing to give you. But it wasn't without a … cost," He hesitated, shifting in his bed. "A few … Months before she… Died, she called me." He stopped, looking and waiting for my reaction. I had none. He had no idea I already knew. When I didn't make a move to say anything, he continued. "She told me about … the letters. She told me she made a mistake in … keeping them from you. She thought she was doing the best thing, take away the right or wrong; she was trying to protect you because she loved you. She saw … me struggle. She knew I wasn't going to get better, so she shielded you from me."

"Weren't you angry?"

"You're my kid. I was mad as hell … At first … But I understand why she did it. And when you showed up here, you were so fucking angry with me. You … thought I didn't care. I could live with that. I accepted it … a long fucking time ago," His voice was not pained, but instead steady. I had imagined he had come to terms with the fact that I wanted nothing to do with him when he never received a response from me. I tried to imagine him in that headspace, feeling hurt over losing his daughter, allowing it to morph into nothingness until he felt indifferent. "But I couldn't … live with you being angry with her. Not … after you told me that she died."

This is where I found it more difficult to understand. I had known Charlie always to be self-centered, to always choose a drink over blood, but I had supposed that was the father I made up in my brain after years of internalizing the fact that he didn't want me in his life. Now, I knew he did. I knew he tried, and that made all the difference. I found my anger shifting from him to my mother, trying to understand her reasoning.

"So, you just … Covered up her lie?"

"If she told you … if she showed you the letters after so many years … How would that have felt?"

"What's the difference in you lying to me about it?" I argued.

"The difference is that all those feelings of resentment you had were at me … Not her. Like I said, I already accepted how you felt. And I … didn't want to change how you thought about her, especially since she isn't here to defend herself." He finished as I shook my head, trying my hardest to understand why my parents made the decisions that they did. Why they always found it was necessary to lie, even if they felt it was the best option. So long, I was in the dark. While I was grateful for the truth, it was hard for me to digest.

"It doesn't make sense."

"A lot of shit doesn't. It doesn't … make sense why she called me, out of everyone. It doesn't make sense why she died. It's just … what it is."

"Why did you go to Phoenix?" I asked. "I want the truth."

His forehead wrinkled his lips pressing together as he stopped himself from answering, adjusting in the bed just as he closed his eyes. The answer pained him, but I didn't push. I stayed motionless in my seat, observing, hoping he would be honest. A breath left him in one fluid motion as his eyes shot open.

"I loved her," He whispered sadly, the words marking me. "She made a … mistake. The whole thing was a fucking mistake. I knew … that. She hit her rock bottom and she … called me. It meant more to me than it did to her … And when she stopped talking to me … I lost it." He winced again, the memories almost too painful to bear as I tried to put myself in his shoes. He had been left by his wife who took their only child, never to hear from her again. He coped with a bottle, building resistance and a wall until years later, she finally called him. I imagined what she must have sounded like … Apologetic, sad, lonely. He resonated with that, felt it too. What it must have felt like when she cut him off, having to relive those feelings again of being left behind.

"Why didn't you try to see me?"

"I was strung out, Bella … I don't even remember half … of the trip."

"But when she told you about the letters … Why didn't you call me?"

"I don't know," He answered, truthfully. "Maybe I thought it … was too late."

 _Too late_.

There seemed to be a lot of that happening. It was too late for us. It was too late for me to save my mom. It was too late for me to save Charlie. The realization of this truth hurt me more than I was willing to admit, but I could feel it pricking at my skin like ice, biting at me. There was a tear inside that split me in half, the truth blinking in front of me, like a warning sign.

I was too late.

I've been too late. I lost my mother and now I was losing him and what would my life be like afterward? All my unanswered questions, all the things I didn't say, will be gone leaving with them, leaving me behind. I gripped the chair handle, feeling the tears well up and roll over the apple of my cheeks as I unraveled. He watched me, staying still.

"But it wasn't. You thought I wanted nothing to do with you. But, I didn't hate you. I just couldn't understand why you didn't want me anymore," I admitted through tears, holding myself in place as I let out an incredible breath, feeling it rip through my throat like glass. "And now I'm finding out that wasn't the truth, that you tried to fight for me and I can't even enjoy having you back because you're dying. You are leaving me… Just like she left me."

"Bella."

"What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to live with this?" I sobbed, covering my arm over my eyes, trying to contain the flood that had splintered and broken through, washing over every single inch of me. The only thing I could hear were my breaths, coming out in spurts as my chest constricted, my arm dropping and wiping at the tears.

"You'll be … okay."

"How can you say that?"

"Because … You're a damn fighter," He smiled, one that was proud. I had never seen him look at me like that. "You've got all the good qualities about … your mother and me. There wasn't much, but you got them. Plus, you tacked … on a few more throughout your life. God knows we didn't make it easy on you," I watched my hands, tapping my thumb against the other as Charlie stared. "I don't think you should be worried." He said calmly, as I looked up, catching his brown eyes, the same ones I inherited.

"Why?"

"Because you've survived through worse …" He said. "Do you remember … our fight?" He asked as I nodded, never forgetting when we screamed at each other in front of his house after he found out about the mortgage. I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to erase it from my memory. "You told me how much … of a shitty dad I was. And you were right."

"I was angry," I said.

"You were … honest. You went through more shit than any child should … have to. But you wouldn't be you without those … experiences. Which will make this," He nodded towards the machines. "Easier to get through."

"Can't you just try?" I asked, pleading. "I know about your DNR, and you don't have to do that. They have medicine to help you; I can help you; we can spend more time together; it doesn't have to be this way."

"Don't ask me to do that, Bella." He warned, the words catching in his throat.

"Why do you want to die?" I wept. "Why do you want to leave me?" Charlie looked at me with an aggrieved expression, as if my words cut him. He had already made up his mind. The look told me there was nothing I could do or say to change his decision.

"I don't want to be in pain anymore." His voice broke, begging for me me to understand. Charlie had lived a life of hurt. Emotionally and physically. I wasn't sure how he did it for so long, though I was sure the alcohol helped, kept it hidden enough for him to survive. He had been broken for so long, barely making it day by day. And he knew that if he were to stay, if he were to go on dialysis to try and prolong this disease that would eventually kill him, he wouldn't stop drinking. No matter how much I helped. If one thing was clear, his addiction outranked me. It didn't change how he felt; it didn't make him care for me less. He just had no more fight left in him. And that broke me.

I reached for his arm, grabbing his hand in mine, my elbow placed on the bed as I held on tightly, the tears falling, but I stayed silent. My head dropped, resting against our hands as I tried to remain strong, tried not to guilt him into living a life he no longer wanted to live, even if it meant leaving me behind. The pain vibrated through me, hitting every nerve along the way, the truth that soon enough, both of my parents would be dead never leaving my thoughts. I could feel him move after a few moments, and soon, I felt his free hand reaching for my head, his fingers running through my hair as he tried to soothe me.

It was the most fatherly gesture he had ever given me.

I was exhausted, the position I was in gaining me access to rest my head, a luxury I hadn't felt in days. My eyes were heavy, my lips parting as I let out a breath of air, allowing myself to close my eyes. I wasn't sure how long I had been asleep, but when I finally woke, there was light leaking in from the hospital window. Charlie had left his hand in mine and I could feel him squeeze, indicating he knew I was up. Slowly, I began to sit up, wincing at the ache in my neck. He was awake; I wasn't even sure if he had fallen asleep at all. I let go of his hand, wiping away the strands of hair stuck to my cheek when I noticed his other hand had held something silver. It was resting at the tip of his pointer finger, and with his thumb, he moved it, circling around and around.

"How long was I out?" I asked him, staring at the ring on his finger.

"Not long. Three hours, maybe." He said as I still felt the tiredness seep into my bones, begging for more rest.

"What's that?" I questioned as he finally looked at me. He smiled, glancing back down to the much too small ring before bringing it over. He grabbed my hand, tugging to open my palm to set it right in the middle. The silver had a pair of hands, a heart and a crown etched in. I realized, at that moment, it just wasn't a ring … It was my mother's. Her wedding ring when she was with Charlie. "You kept it?"

"I lost it," He began. "I looked everywhere … Tore the house up when I was drunk." He looked at me knowingly. It wasn't long ago, shortly after I arrived and was trying to help him get better. I got rid of the whiskey, but he had found some and I woke up to a house ripped apart. He was listening to music, to one of the songs they named me after and he told me he was looking for something. He didn't tell me what it was, wasn't coherent enough to even get himself off the floor.

" _What are you looking for, Charlie?"_

" _I can't tell you. I need to find it so I can give it to you."_

He had crumbled that night and I helped him up to bed; What he was looking for was forgotten.

"Where did you find it?"

"The attic. Along … with a few other things." He paused. "I want you to have it."

I touched the coolness of it, feeling the words stuck in my throat. I could see snapshots of her in my head, see her with the ring on her finger, or how, when she tucked me into bed the nights she wasn't intoxicated, I would play with it, twisting it around just like Charlie had done. I looked at him, more tears in my eyes, ready to say something before a knock on the door caught our attention.

"You're awake," Carlisle smiled, nodding to the both of us. "How are you feeling?"

"Could use a little more relief from this … damn pain. What can you drug me up with?" He cocked an eyebrow as Carlisle nodded, jotting down a few notes.

"I'll send you home with painkillers," Carlisle told him.

"Home?" I questioned, looking between the both of them.

"There's no way I'm spending… the last, few, however, many days of my damn life in this godforsaken hospital," Charlie said flatly. "I will be in the comfort of my own home … in my own bed."

"We will make sure you are comfortable, Charlie," Carlisle told him with a nod. "Bella, I will be working on the discharge papers here shortly. He should be out within a few hours. Am I okay to assume you will be with him at home?" We all heard Charlie take in a sharp breath as if he were anticipating me to say no. But, without hesitation, I nodded my head.

"I'll be with him."

Carlisle talked to me about what to expect with at-home Hospice. He anticipated Charlie to survive no more than two weeks, especially without the care of dialysis. We scheduled when a team from the hospital would come out as they would add not only medical but emotional support. Carlisle wanted the house to be prepared for this type of care and indicated that he believed it was not. We made a plan for me to leave shortly, go back home and clean up, prepare his bed, and whatever needs to be done to make it as relaxing an environment as we could.

It was hard to leave him, even though I knew I was going to see him in just a few short hours. My stomach twisted, my brain jumping into the what if's, but I forced myself out, making my way back to his house.

Entering it was the second hardest thing I had to do, apart from seeing Charlie in the hospital. There were memories attached to it, some good but mostly bad. It was where I cared for my parents, where I woke up and made myself breakfast because they were too hungover to do so. It was where I tried to help Charlie, where I found him on the ground in a puddle of either vomit or blood. And it would be where Charlie would die, where he would take his last breath. It didn't seem like enough memories could be stored in one place, but they were. They were all in this house.

I didn't want to wallow in the negatives. Charlie needed me, and I would be damned if I allowed my own issues to ruin what little time we had left. So, I forced myself inside. It was painful at first; the last time I was here I was packing my bags, swearing to Charlie I would never return as I slammed the door behind me. It wasn't a surprise the house was a mess, his inability to take care of himself making my stomach twist into knots. I grabbed a garbage bag and began to clean, finding empty whiskey bottles littered around his chair, takeout food adorning the counters in the kitchen, a few broken items scattered across the floor, looking as if they were damaged in a fit of rage.

Charlie wanted to be in his room, and when I finished cleaning the downstairs, I climbed the stairs, hesitating over the carpet that was stained with red, pushing past and making my way into the bedroom. It was relatively clean, which I was thankful for. Charlie always opted for the recliner downstairs, so it surprised me he wanted to be up here. A few bottles were toppled over on the ground, his bed unmade, the sheets dangling from the side. I pulled them all back, intending on washing them until I noticed something bright and orange sticking out from underneath his pillow. I climbed the bed, reaching over and pulled it out, my breath catching in my throat when I realized what it was.

It was small and dirty; the orange fabric muted from dust as I turned it to look at its face. The nose made of thread was torn, a button missing from one of the eyes as its smile brought me back to when I was just a kid. I choked out a cry, realizing I hadn't seen this for fourteen years.

It was my stuffed cat, Mr. Kitty.

Charlie had saved it, kept it. He slept with it. _How long had he been sleeping with it?_ With shaky fingers, I smoothed down its matted hair, remembering how it brought me peace when I felt unstable.

When my parents were gone, or when they were fighting or even drinking downstairs, this was my best friend, my savior. I brought it close, tucking it under my chin as I held it tight, crying in the middle of Charlie's bed. Slowly, I sank down, clutching onto it so securely I was afraid if I let it go, I would collapse. I wasn't sure if I was ready to go through with this. I wasn't sure if I could be strong enough for both him and me. The thought of being in here while he died poisoned my mind, made me doubt the confidence he had in me to be able to make it through. How could I live after having seen them both dead? There was an onslaught of tears, and quietly I sobbed into the stuffed animal, wishing for strength to get me through the inevitable.

I stayed still for several minutes until I heard a car door shut just outside of the window. Slowly, I stood, wiping at the wetness of my cheeks. I set Mr. Kitty safely on the pillow as I moved from the bedroom to the hallway, gripping onto the banister, making my way down the stairs. I hesitated at the front door, waiting until I heard for a knock that never came. I felt the coolness of the doorknob, closing my eyes until I heard a click, opening it slowly.

I had wished for strength, and the moment I opened the front door, I knew I had received it.

He was pacing; his back turned towards me just at the end of the stairs as he took off his baseball cap, gripping at his unruly, copper locks. He was tense; I could tell by the way he stood, the way his shoulders squared as he went still, oblivious I was behind him. He was conflicted, shoving the hat back on the top of his head, a large breath leaving him as his shoulders fell.

I could feel my heart hammering because it had been months since I had seen him. There wasn't one day that went by that I didn't miss him, despite me trying to forget. I was so naïve to think I could wash him off me, so stupid to think he deserved any of the hatred he got because he was only an innocent bystander. I will always wish that he told me. I wish I didn't have to find out the way I did, but I knew it was not his fault. The secrets of my parents were a product of them, not him. Burned by my anger, I targeted him because it was easier for me to deal with. It was easier for me to have a reason to leave the person I had fallen in love with knowing they betrayed me.

But he hadn't.

The moment he gathered the courage, he turned, halting at the sight of me.

The dam broke, the flood was coming in, there was no escape, no fighting. I loved him with everything I could, and I knew I would not survive this without him. One look was all it took. I was out the door and off the porch within seconds, and he opened up as if he knew, just as I threw myself at him, my arms around his neck as I dug in, feeling as he grabbed me around the waist pulling me off my feet.

I could hear him sigh, the big breath releasing just next to my ear as if he had been holding it since the last time we saw each other. My fingers found the hair at his nape, stroking it as his jacket dampened from my tears. I heard him saying my name, his voice catching in his throat as we stood in each other's embrace for however long until we were satisfied enough to loosen our grip.

Slowly, we faced each other, still entangling our arms as we looked, memorizing this moment. His hair was just a little longer, dangling in his eyes and he had scruff decorating his jaw. I reached out to touch it, feeling it scrape against my palm as his cheek moved to it, resting until he turned, pressing a kiss right in the center. His eyes closed as if he were savoring the moment and then he looked at me, his jade eyes illuminated. I hadn't realized I was crying until he wiped at my cheeks, a pained look crossing his face.

"I'm sorry." He breathed, reaching forward to rest his forehead against mine. I knew what he meant. He was sorry for everything. He was sorry about what happened, sorry he wasn't honest. He was sorry Charlie was dying and was sorry that I was crying. He was sorry for all the things he shouldn't be sorry about. I gripped him, pulling his face away so he could see me. I needed him to see me when I said this.

And, as if the last five months apart meant absolutely nothing, I told him what I needed him to hear.

"I love you." My voice was unwavering. I needed him to know. He hadn't been expecting it, his face softening as he came forward, finally pressing his lips against mine.

 _I was home._

* * *

 _AN: How are you guys doing?_

 _Shout out to everyone who has favorited, followed and reviewed. Your words of encouragement and your dedication to this story astounds me every time I post. Thank you._

 _A big thank you to my beta, Fran. She is always looking out for me and is honestly the biggest cheerleader of this story._

 _We have one. more. chapter. I can't even believe it. There will also be an epilogue!_

 _Until next time ..._

 _ii_


	24. Pillar

_Chapter Song - Knocking on Heavens Door by RAIGN (Original by Guns N' Roses)_

 _Mama, take this badge from me._  
 _I can't use it anymore._  
 _It's gettin' dark, too dark to see.  
I feel I'm knocking on Heavens door._

* * *

There are certain moments in life that stick with you, stay with you forever, embedded into your skin like deeply rooted scars. I've had many of these memories, all somehow revolving around my parents. It started at my childhood, looking after two addicts at the tender age of five, leaving Forks, from growing up resenting my father for abandoning me, all the way to my mother passing, and up until this very moment. But as I sat at the edge of Charlie's bed, his shirt removed as I took a sponge to his skin, I had realized how minuscule everything else seemed before this, as if it didn't even matter. I watched him closely, cleaning what I could, the sponge running down the protruding ridges of his spine. He stayed motionless, staring blankly at the black screen of the TV as I continued to wash.

Watching Charlie slowly die, day after day, would never leave me.

I thought nothing could top walking in to discover my mother's body. I thought nothing could wipe the stained memories of her cold body in my arms, or the way her skin had tinted blue, white bubbles slipping down the corner of her mouth, realizing that she was gone.

It was traumatic. It was horrifying.

But it wasn't as horrifying as this.

Watching Charlie, every day, get skinner, weaker and quieter … It was another form of anguish that I had never known. I carried my mother's death, but Charlie? It would live inside of me. It was, by far, the worst thing I had ever had to go through.

I tried to be the support he needed, tried to give him what I could to make it easy. The pain was manageable for him at first, only slight discomfort here and there. But towards the end of the first week, he slept more, and when he was awake, begged for pills. When the nurses from the hospital visited, they upped his dosage, finding one that was enough to give him relief as his body began shut down. I watched from a distance as they came in and out like clockwork, getting his vitals, checking to make sure he was relaxed. Carlisle had even stopped in a few times, but I had a feeling he was here more as a friend, rather than a doctor. When the nurses left, he stuck around, watching baseball games and playing cards with Charlie. I was grateful for him, finding the times he was around to take a break.

Charlie and I had found ourselves in a routine. Every morning I would make him a light breakfast and feed him in bed while he watched sports highlights. He would take a nap while I cleaned, and when he woke, he was ready for lunch. We would eat together, and towards the evening, we'd play board games and then watch TV before bed. The first week, he was able to move the pieces of checkers on his own, but by the following week, he had to tell me where to move them, too tired to do any type of physical activity, even as simple as lifting his arm. The first night that happened, I had to excuse myself, mumbling about using the bathroom, only to break down behind closed doors.

There were moments of weakness for me, but I tried my hardest to keep myself together for him. Any sign of tears, Charlie would huff, telling me to wait until he was six feet under to cry. I was angry at first, frustrated that he wouldn't allow me to show my emotions, but in reality, I knew he was shielding himself from a pain he wasn't ready to face. And so, our routine continued.

"Do you need something?" I asked when I caught him wincing when I pulled away. He nodded as I dropped the sponge into the bowl, reaching over to grab him a pill. I crushed it up in the mortar and pestle that stayed by his bed, sprinkling it into a small protein shake I had created to increase his calorie intake as his appetite lessened. Setting a straw into the glass, I held it out in front of him, helping him settle it in his hand, positioning it against his chest so he didn't have to hold it. He drank it quickly, sighing in contentment as his head leaned back against the pillow.

"Better?" I asked.

"Much … my insides are … killing me," He joked as I rolled my eyes, grabbing the bowl of water and placing it away from us. One thing he didn't lose – his sense of humor.

"Are you comfortable?" I reached for the sheets around him, tucking them underneath him, ensuring that he was warm.

"As comfortable … as I can … be," His jaundiced eyes watched the TV, his mustache twitching as he sniffed. I turned in my chair, tucking my legs underneath me as my elbow rested against the arm, my chin in my palm. I had watched more sports highlights that I ever thought I would, always winding down with him before he was ready for sleep. We stayed in silence, usually. But tonight, was different. Charlie turned his chin towards me, and I met his gaze when I felt his stare.

"What?" I asked, furrowing my brows.

"You … don't even … like this shit." He laughed, it wheezing out of him.

"So?" I questioned.

"You should … go do something … Don't waste … your time here." He answered, his voice set. I uncurled my legs from underneath me, turning my body towards him.

"Are you kicking me out?" I asked playfully. Charlie scrunched his nose, shrugging his shoulders.

"You … shouldn't be stuck … in here … with me."

"If I left, who would take care of you?" I challenged. He thought about his answer for a moment, just before a small smirk appeared on his thin lips.

"Jane."

"Jane?" I scoffed. "The nurse?"

"She's … cute." He feigned innocence as I rolled my eyes, sitting back in my chair and looking back at the TV.

"Sure, her being cute triumphs over your own flesh and blood. No way, you are not getting rid of me that easily." I warned, my tone holding spirit. Charlie shook his head slowly, still watching me.

"I'm just … holding you down."

"What are you talking about? I _want_ to be here," I told him as he sneered, looking back to the TV. I watched him, wondering if he had more on his mind, more that he wanted to say. He wouldn't respond to empathy, shielding it out for the majority of his life. He rarely wanted to show his emotions. "Is this because I beat you in Yahtzee?"

He was surprised by my question, a lightness touching his eyes as I watched a slight smile appear before disappearing. "You cheated."

"I did not!" I gasped, gripping my hand over my chest.

"You purposefully … rolled bad … on my turn." He accused as my jaw dropped.

"Can you prove that?"

"I … just know."

"You're a sore loser." I mocked him, the lightness of the moment lifting a hopefulness I hadn't felt in a while. I knew he felt it too, the glint in his eyes showing that for once, the atmosphere wasn't depressing.

"I'll … get you … next time." He promised, one that I hoped he would keep. I could see him struggling to situate himself, his lids heavy, indicating he was ready to sleep. I stood from my spot, tucking him in before shutting off the TV. He watched me for a moment, looking away when our eyes met. Even close to death, he still had a difficult time saying how he felt. I knew he was thankful for me, and I knew he loved me, but those were emotions that were so far removed from him; to be able to articulate it would be nearly impossible. It was quite the opposite of my mother who told me every chance she could that she loved me, how much she needed me, how I was her best friend. But Charlie was closed off, for reasons I understood.

I finished tucking him in, leaning over to turn off his lamp. When the darkness took the room, I made my way to the door, hesitating when I saw his eyes were still open.

"For the record," I began, seeing his head tilt to look at me. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here."

When I left the room, I made my way down the staircase, rubbing at the sleepiness in my eyes. I wondered how long it would take me to fall asleep again. My sleep plagued with nightmares of waking up to Charlie dead. I found myself up and checking on him more than I was in my own bed, to the point where I often slept on the chair in his room, staying close in case he needed me.

I heard noises in the kitchen. Stepping into the foyer before I turned to the opening, I see a dark, crimson-haired man at the fridge, stocking it full of the groceries. I leaned against the archway, watching him.

The morning Edward and I reunited, we had no time to talk about our issues, to work through our separation, or what our next steps would be. Charlie was dying, and I couldn't wrap myself up in trying to fix my relationship with him, not when I was needed somewhere else. I knew he wanted to talk, but he also knew where my loyalty needed to be. And when I asked him for help, he didn't hesitate. That same day, after my declaration, he helped me straighten up the house, to prepare for Charlie's homecoming. He cleaned with me, finishing Charlie's room, washing the sheets and moving the TV from the living room to his dresser just across from his bed. And when the time came, Edward was with me when I picked up Charlie. He carried him from the wheelchair and into the car, and then from the car into the house, all the way up the stairs.

Edward was there when I needed him. He never pressured me to talk about our issues. He gave me the space I needed, offering his services at my request, which was frequent.

And it wasn't just for me. Edward was here for Charlie. He admitted to me that when I had left Forks, he stayed away from the house, his anger making him spiteful. It wasn't until the incident at the bar when Charlie passed out, that Edward visited him before I arrived. There was still anger, but Edward knew it was useless. He was quick to forgive, the two finding common grounds and rebuilding whatever they had before it was too late. More than once, I had walked in on them, Edward on the chair and close to the bed as they spoke quietly to each other. I never intruded, slowly backing away and letting them be.

It was true, Edward was a huge help to Charlie during this time. But he was the biggest help to me. I wasn't sure if he even realized how much he was helping, just his presence was enough to keep me from falling. Several times, I was ready to give up, to fold and leave. The pain was almost unbearable to see my own father fall apart, day after day. But every time I wanted to let go, Edward was there. It was a simple thing, maybe a brush of his fingers against my cheeks, or a joke that made me laugh. It was his smile, the way he reassured me that I was doing everything I could.

 _Why did I leave him?_

The sudden thought passed through my mind and shocked me, my arm slipping from my side and hitting the archway. Edward turned at the sound, standing as he placed the last item in the fridge.

"How long have you been watching me?" He asked, his tone spirited as he smiled. I reflected it, an automatic reaction. He had enticed it out of me. All of the pain, all of the misery and sadness I felt because of Charlie, was almost completely lifted when it was just the two of us.

"Just admiring." I pointed out, his eyes widening slightly, surprised by my comment. In the week we had been reunited, we hadn't kissed since the day we saw each other. When we brought Charlie home, it felt like whatever we had, was placed on the back burner. Anything in my mind other than Charlie, made me feel guilty. I couldn't consume myself with him, no matter how much I wanted to. And like the pillar he was, he didn't mind, allowing me the space I needed, showing his affection through the act of touch, letting me know his feelings were still true. I wanted to reciprocate, but I was afraid.

"Yeah?" He was wistful, but there was hopefulness.

"Yeah," I whispered, taking a step into the kitchen. "Do you have to go to work tonight?"

"Not if you need me." He was in front of me now, the groceries a forgotten bygone. Tentatively, he reached out, brushing a wisp of hair from my forehead, tucking it behind my ear. I closed my eyes, reveling in his closeness, my body remembering his, relaxing in his proximity, and the feel of his hands cupping the back of my neck. He was exactly what I needed, what I craved, what I wanted. And I could feel myself wrapping up in him, wanting him to expel the pain and leave me with nothing but goodness, because that's what he was. I could feel his warm breath, his scent of sandalwood, encouraging me to melt into him.

 _Would it be too terrible for me to give in? Just for a night? For some rest?_

"I want you to stay." I said, my mind decided as I grabbed at his hand, interlocking our fingers. He watched me, allowing me to lead, my body needing to rest, but I wasn't sure if I could take another night sleeping in a chair. I led him up to my old bedroom, the two of us wordlessly undressing into our underwear before we climbed into my twin bed, creaking in protest. Similar to the night we spent in here, Edward held me close to the wall, protecting me, our chests meshed together as his arms wrapped me up in the blankets before finding home around my waist. I curled into him, sighing under his chin, my fingers gently rubbing along his spine.

"See?" I snuggled closer to him. "It's not so bad."

"Remind me of that when we wake up and my back is thrown out." He responded pointedly as I smiled against his throat.

"Don't worry, I'll help you down the stairs." I teased, pinching his side. He chuckled, his arms tightening as he kissed the top of my head.

"It's not as comfy as our bed, but I'll admit, with you here it's not so bad." His voice was calm, as if he hadn't even realized what he said. My body uncurled from him, my chin tilting up to look at him. "What?"

" _Our_ bed?" I whispered. Edward's features stiffened, as if he realized the slip of his tongue. He watched me warily, trying to formulate a response before opening his mouth.

"Is that too presumptuous of me?" His voice was quiet, careful. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"You didn't," I answered quickly. No, it actually had quite the opposite effect. Through the chaos of dealing with Charlie and feeling unstable, the thought of something of Edward's being ours … It made me _happy_. But he was still watching me as if he didn't believe me, his arms lessening their grip, ready for me to dash out the room. "Have I really been that bad?"

"What do you mean?"

"You are looking at me like I'm going to disappear." I told him. Edward looked away as if he were ashamed and I felt a pit in my stomach, realizing that I had been distant enough to make him feel that at any moment, I would leave again.

"I don't want to add to your stress," He admitted, his eyes finding mine again. "You came back and I am so fucking grateful, Bella. But I know you came back for Charlie. And I would be a fool to think that you would forgive me easily when I broke your trust. Please don't take my caution to heart, I'm just … protecting myself."

His honesty brought tears to my eyes, bringing my realization to full circle. I loved him. Of course, I never stopped. But he didn't know that. For all he knew, I planned to leave after Charlie passes. He was bracing himself for this fact, safeguarding his heart. Wordlessly, I moved back into his chest, resting my head against his bare skin. He seemed unsure but soon enough gripped me again, holding me close.

"I missed you." I heard him say above me, his voice vulnerable. My chin tilted to look at him, untucking from him as he watched me with wary eyes. Silently, I moved my hands to ghost over his cheeks, until I felt the stubble, studying every perfection and imperfection, memorizing it. He was watching me, trying to read my expression, gauging if this was the right time to have a conversation.

"I was a coward," I began, his expression filled with confusion. "I left because it was easier for me to blame you, to justify why I was leaving."

"You didn't need justification, Bella. I lied to you. And I'll regret that forever."

"You were being used; stuck between him and me, it wasn't fair." I voiced, knowing he was trying to keep me painted in a good light, when, in reality, I had left for the wrong reasons.

"I would have left." His tone was flat, but I could hear his hesitation, showing the lie.

"No, you wouldn't have," I smiled, shaking my head, running my fingers through the hair his nape. "You would have stayed. You would have talked through it, found a solution, and resolve it. You would have forgiven me easily. Because that's who you are."

"I don't blame you for leaving." He responded, foolishly still trying to save me.

"And I love you for that," I said just as I found his hand, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles. I could hear his breathing hitch, his eyes searching mine. "I was scared, too."

"Of what?" He asked as I played with his fingers, looping ours together, keeping my gaze down as I felt my stomach twist. "Bella?"

I could feel my breath catch in my throat, holding hostage as my heart hammered behind my ribcage. This was when I felt similar to Charlie the most, when my body reacted to the fearfulness of letting my guard go. I felt on high alert as if what I was going to admit would somehow be used against me. Even in the presence of a man I know I loved and trusted with every ounce of my soul. I moved closer, shielding myself into his chest as I grabbed onto his side, clinging to him. He held me, his hands growing frantic as they moved down my back, encouraging me.

"I was scared you were going to be gone, when I came back. That you would have left." I admitted, feeling the tears well up. I tried to hide, but he was having none of it. He grabbed my cheeks, forcing my eyes to his, the intensity of his stare, leaving me breathless. He was so close, our noses only an inch apart as his features softened, his head tilting so that our lips met. He was slow at first, a chaste kiss, but I drank him in, every moment of it. Slowly, his lips dragged from mine, pressing along my chin and up to my check, showering every inch.

"I was going to," He admitted against the skin of my jaw, before moving back in front of me. The thought of me returning to Forks, to handle Charlie on my own, without him. I couldn't even imagine it. "I couldn't."

" _I'm sorry_." I cried, feeling my tears wiped away within an instant. He kissed me again, his arm sliding around my waist, bringing me closer. I gripped onto him, my arms around his shoulders as we healed together, falling into a slumber, one that finally granted me the rest that I hadn't felt in weeks.

xx

Another week had passed, our routine changing with Charlie's condition. His appetite was changing, down to only a protein shake a day. He was sleeping more, only awake a few hours during the day until he had no strength to even keep his eyes open. He was speaking less, humming when he was trying to communicate. His skin was pale, his hair falling out, leaving patches around the top. His memory was fading, a side effect I was warned about. It happened in flashes. When he did speak, he sometimes called me by my mother's name, smiling at me in a way I had never seen. I was losing him, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. He was slowly fading into a shell of a man, and I held a tremendous amount of guilt for him, wondering if there was any quality of life. When Carlisle visited last, he set me down at the dining room table, watching me carefully as Edward stood behind, his hands on my shoulders.

" _It's getting close, Bella. Only a day or so, I would imagine."_

At Carlisle's words, I took it as a precursor of my limited time with my father. While I relied on Edward to give me strength, I knew this was something I had to do myself. Edward understood, of course, giving me the space I needed to spend with Charlie. I stayed next to him every moment, only leaving to use the restroom or grab a quick bite to eat. He very rarely woke up, only doing so when he needed some medical relief. There were flashes of the normal him, times he would strike up a conversation with me, say something sarcastic that made me believe I could just have a bit longer. But soon enough, he was quiet again, leaving me alone in his darkened room.

" _Bella_."

White light shone from the kitchen window, creating a soft familiar ambiance, hues of yellow and orange shading my skin as I sat at the table, giggling into a spoonful of milk and cheerios. I could see them in the living room, the young man with a scruffy face twirling the dark blonde woman in his arms, scooping her up and holding her tightly as they laughed together. She turned to me, her eyes shining, even from across the room, as she mouthed the words to a song that I couldn't hear, but knew in my heart.

 _I'm coming back one day, come what may, to blue bayou._

" _Bella_."

Hazel eyes watched me until her arms opened and encouraged me to join. Stubbornly, I stayed still, watching as the man brought her back to him, the two dancing again, the woman always looking back to me with the brightest smile, while the man paid me no attention. It was as if she was trying to convince me further that I needed to be there in-between them. Their movements were fast, he twirled her some more as their laughing began to ring in my ears, and she dipped, his hand tight at the small of her back before lifting her back up. She looked back at me as he gazed at her, her lips continuing to move at the silent song.

 _Well, I'll never be blue_ _,_ _my dreams come true_ _o_ _n Blue Bayou._

Their dancing began to slow as she rested on his chest, his chin settling at the top her head as they moved into an unhurried rocking motion. I could see her back rise and fall as if she let out a breath of relief, content in being in his arms. He smiled, savoring the moment as she opened her misting eyes, watching me longingly. Finally, her arm outstretched from between them, as if in one last attempt to encourage me to come and join. I didn't move, even though I wanted to. There was warmth against my cheeks, an adolescent feeling wafting over me, craving the hug of my mother who all but begged me in her arms, but still, I stayed.

Her smile was sad, but she knew I couldn't go to her, even if I wanted to. Her arm slowly dropped, and she brought it back to rest between them as her eyes closed.

"Bella."

I woke immediately, lifting in the chair as the blanket pooled at my lap. I blinked, attempting to rub the sleep away as I turned towards the bed, the bedside lamp the only source of light. I stood, walking towards Charlie's side, seeing him wide awake.

"What's wrong?" I whispered, panicked. His frail body was shivering, his sheets falling past his hips as he didn't even have the strength to reach for them. Lifting them to cover under his boney chin, I tucked him in tightly as he watched me methodically.

"You were … humming," He croaked as I met his gaze, eyes sunken into his face. He was coherent tonight, my hopefulness sparking despite my brain warning me. "Were you … dreaming?"

"I don't remember." I lied, reeling from the odd trance, wondering why I didn't go to the woman.

"I've been … dreaming a lot."

"Yeah?"

"I dreamt of … Whiskey last … Night." He said matter-of-factly as I gave him a pointed look.

"Shocking," I shot back sarcastically. He managed a choking laugh as I sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the bottles of painkillers that sat next to him. "Do you need anything?"

"No," He whispered, my eyes flashing with surprise. I glanced to the digital clock next to the lamp, counting back to when he last took some. He was usually asking for relief every three hours. It had been over six. "I don't … really feel … anything." His voice trailed off as he watched me sincerely, gauging my reaction. I felt a lump in my throat as I tried to swallow it, sparing him a forced smile.

"Anything else you've been dreaming about?" I asked, casually changing the subject.

"You." His tone was flat as my arms crossed over my stomach.

"Me?"

"When … you … were little." His mustache twitched, recalling the dream.

"Are they memories?" I asked.

"Some … others, I think I … made up …" He paused, letting out a staggered breath. "I was … under the influence … a lot." He cracked as I gave him a light scoff, but I appreciated his honesty. There was no sugar-coating with Charlie, not even on his deathbed. But, I was grateful for that quality. What was the point of putting a filter on my childhood? We both knew how it really was.

"I'm afraid to ask if they were better or worse than the real thing." I teased, his lips thinning.

"I was … around … more …" He said as I looked to him. "Less … bottles in my … hand."

"Can you imagine?" I felt my smile, but knew it was despondent. I didn't want to break in front of him, not when I had to be the strength he didn't have. I had taken his comment as if it were a lighthearted remark, but I could tell by his face that my reaction wasn't what he wanted. The thinness of his face was unmoving, his cracked lips turning down as he watched me desperately. "What?" My voice cut the silence, breaking under the pressure of the moment.

"I … wish … I would have … been better … for you," His voice broke, shattering me with each word as I looked away promptly, hiding my grief. His tone was different, almost tranquil, as if he knew something I didn't. "Please … don't … hide." He begged as I shook my head, not ready to look at him. In my angst, I didn't feel him pull his arm from out of the sheets, and it wasn't until I felt cold fingers touch the hand that held me steady on the bed that I glanced over, standing immediately. My hand swiped away from his as if it were on fire, and his face pained, not expecting me to withdraw.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, evading his eyes, avoiding what he wanted to say next. "Thirsty? What can I get you? Want me to make something?"

"Bella."

"I know it's hard for you to chew, I can make soup, a smoothie, maybe some chowder?"

" _Bella_."

"Anything you want," I pleaded, finally catching his gaze. "Anything." I breathed, watching as his features softened, his lips smiling as he shook his head. I could see the truth behind them, could see the words he couldn't say, but his body warned me of, and I wasn't ready. The strength that I somehow mustered through the past few weeks seemed to disappear within milliseconds, gone as if it hadn't even been there to hold me up. Because the realization of what he was doing, of what he was going to say, was toppling on me, making me face the harshest reality. And no matter how much I denied it, I knew it was coming. I walked across the room, leaning myself against the dresser, it shaking at the sudden weight as items fell over, including a framed baby photo of me.

He didn't say anything, allowing me a moment to gather myself physically and emotionally. My elbows rested on the smooth wood as my fingers dug deep into my eyes, scrubbing down my cheeks and then my chin, holding still until I finally let out a breath. A lone tear escaped, the first of what I knew were to be many as I turned my chin, rubbing it onto my sweater.

 _I'm not ready._

I chanted it in my head over and over, as if a silent plea to whoever was out there to just give me more time. I just needed more. I just needed to spend a few more days with him, I just needed to hear his voice, no matter how weak it was, I needed to care for him, even if that meant continuing to watch his deterioration. I just needed him. I needed him to not let go. I couldn't let go.

 _Please don't let him go._

"Bella," He said as I turned, looking back to him from over my shoulder. The right side of his face rested on the pillow, his bone-thin arm laying palm up as if beckoning me to him, but I shook my head. He watched, pained, his body almost completely unrecognizable from the disease that ran rampant inside of him, eating every bit of life he had left.

"I'm tired."

I shook my head, turning as my cheeks grew wetter, my hands clasped at my chest.

"But I'm not." I answered stubbornly.

"Please." He pleaded as one foot skimmed across the floor in front of the other, my body hesitating as I moved closer. His right arm came close back to his side, his left revealing as he patted the empty spot next to him.

He wanted me to lay next to him, to comfort him. In his eyes, I could see the fear behind the weakened brown, and my heart broke. He was terrified. And I was being so selfish. I reached for the light on the side table, switching it off as I walked to the end, passing to the empty spot where I slowly lowered, the bed creaking at the change in weight as I sunk on my side, watching as he turned his head towards me. The moonlight provided enough for me to still see him, the contours of his face highlighted by the shadows, causing more tears in my eyes.

"Don't … cry," He whispered in the darkness, his hand slowly reaching up to swipe at my cheek, only for it to be replaced with more wetness. "We had … A hell of a … ride, didn't we?" He asked as a broken laugh escaped my lips. I nodded, the laugh turning into a sob as I hid in the pillow. I felt something at my chin, my head turning to see that he had grabbed Mr. Kitty from the top of the pillow, tucking him close to me. "Don't … lose him … this time." I captured him in my fingers, feeling the plushness, rubbing it against my cheeks to dry them.

"Does it hurt?" I whispered in the dark, a small smile ghosting his lips.

"Not … anymore." He told me as I tilted my chin, pressing my lips against the top of the stuffed cat. I sniffled, trying my hardest to stay tough, feeling his gaze as he tried to stay awake. I looked up to him, his long hair sticking every which way, the scar on his nose from being punched, reminding me of finding him at Masens the day I came back in September. Reflecting, I would have never imagined being here. He put me through the worst hell, but it was infinitesimal to what he had to endure in his years of loneliness. My heart clenched for him, more tears springing to my eyes as I swore, if this was it, I would stay with him. And as much as I wished it wasn't, even if I begged for just seconds longer, I wouldn't leave.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"For … what?"

"For leaving you," I admitted, reaching forward to grab his small arm, tangling mine between his, holding on for dear life.

"It wasn't … your … fault." He assured me. No, it wasn't my fault. I knew it. But the guilt was still there, and he could see it. He studied me, silence casting between us as he watched, and even in his sunken eyes, I could feel every ounce of emotion he could muster.

My memories of him were scorned at best. For so long, I focused on the wrongs he did to me. Forcing me to look after him and Mom, cleaning up their mess, taking care of them after they were sick from alcohol. They burned heavier at the memory of being left and forgotten. I was angry at it all. At him for being such an addict. At my mom for being a liar. But it was all different now, everything was altered. And the once despised memories burnt up into ashes, replaced with the good ones of him reading my favorite book to bed, playing hide and seek, of him high fiving me when we raced down the muddy path in the backyard.

He tried.

He failed, but he tried.

But he loved me. He loved me with every ounce he could, even if he never said it, I knew it. Even if the bottle had been more important, I could sense it in the way he looked at me from across the bed.

He loved me. And he was proud.

I wouldn't see him again, hear his sarcastic laugh, or his ability to short cut his way out of a situation. I wouldn't be able to talk to him on the couch when he reclined on his chair, watching his sports as we laughed about something that was meaningless now. I would see nothing but emptiness, feel it inside me with every slow ache. So, I needed him to know. I needed him to know that no matter how crazy he made me feel, no matter how much we argued and fought, he was always my father first.

"I love you, Dad." I whispered, choking on his name. I could see the cloudiness in his eyes, the tears welling up, one dripping down his bony cheek, absorbing into the pillow beneath him. He let out a breath as if he had been holding it, as if he had been waiting for me to say it, for me to finally call him by what I should have called him all along. Slowly, he opened his eyes, his fingers squeezing at mine as best as they could.

"You … were … the best … thing to … ever … happen to me."

A sob left me, my forehead falling to rest on his shoulder as I clung to him desperately, trying to regain control as I felt his lips on the top of my head.

My father.

My last parent. What was I going to do?

His breathing slowed, my head tilting up as I watched him face the ceiling, his eyes closing and then opening, finding it difficult to stay awake. I bit my lip, stroking his arm to comfort him, to tell him it was okay.

His breathing was shallow, it leaving in spurts as the silence took over the room once again until he began to hum.

" _She'll … put a spell … on you_ _…_ _Marie … Marie_ ," His voice was coarse, barely above a whisper, but I could hear him singing the song, hearing the song they named me after. I felt a lump in my throat, biting back my tears, a flash of them dancing in the dining room, a vivid memory, to the very same song. I watched him, his words ceasing, but the humming continued as if he were entertaining someone. I began squeezing his hand as if to ask him to come back to me, but he only smiled, watching the ceiling. "You're here." They were his last words, just as he closed his eyes.

Frozen, I watched his chest rise and fall, and every time, it slowed. I didn't know how long I watched, how long it took for it to slow to the point of no chest movement at all, but I could still hear it, small breaths leaving his lips until he took his final one, utter silence claiming the room.

I blinked, tears forming as I squeezed his hand, willing for him to squeeze back just one more time.

I did it again.

Three more times.

Anything to feel it, but I was met with nothing. My mouth opened, an agonizing cry leaving my lips as my head turned into my pillows, trying to silence myself. The tears were unstoppable, the pain eating me alive as I moved closer to him, holding onto him for dear life because I wasn't strong enough for this. I murmured into his shoulder, begging for him to come back, just give me one more minute, one more time to say goodbye. My chin tilted upwards, my vision blurred by the tears, but I blinked them away, gripping at his shirt. " _Please_." I cried. He didn't answer me, and everything turning into a haze of colors and sounds of agony. My shoulders racked with every sob, my begging becoming louder just in case he couldn't hear me. As if my pain would be enough to bring him back.

But it didn't.

His eyes never opened again, and I was raw. I lost my breath, struggling to breathe, trying to find it in myself to relax, but all I could feel was the ache. Memories flashed in my head like bulbs, like light leaks across pictures, showing me only bits and pieces. I saw my parents together, saw them kissing and hugging, fighting, and screaming. I could feel the corner of the wall in the kitchen where I hid to protect myself from it. I could see my mom coaxing me out, Charlie apologizing for the things he said as they held me tight, to make it seem as if it were okay. I saw her death again, for what felt like the millionth time, deadened inside because I knew I added one more memory to that collection.

They both left me.

I let out a wheezing breath, feeling my fists ball up as I shook violently, weeping into his shirt until I felt hands on my shoulders. I screamed, begging for the intruder to go away, the hands disappearing as I held on to my father tighter, not ready to let go.

But he didn't listen.

It was Edward who quietly shushed me, scooping me up and turning me into a seating position, grabbing my arms and forcing them to wrap around his neck. I cried into him, my nails gripping at his shirt as I held on so tightly as if I thought he was going to leave too. He didn't say a word, holding me in his arms as I broke down, crying for the comfort of my parents, the only thing I would never have again.

I heard whispers, affirmations of love that went unnoticed because I was too tired in my own grief, my sobs increasing as he pulled me into a standing position, farther away from my dad. I turned, looking at him one last time. He looked peaceful, death not taking his outward appearance yet, but I knew what was on the inside. I felt a hand against my cheek, pulling me away and out of the room just as I tumbled. Edward grabbed me, leaning down on the floor to break my fall as I screamed into the hardwood, trying to rid myself of the pain that swallowed every inch of me.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't think.

I only felt pain.

xx

The night moved in slow motion, everything blurring together, leaving me feeling suspended in time. The on-call nurse came and pronounced his death, sharing her condolences as I sat motionless on the couch, unable to react, the shock setting deep in my bones despite having prepared for this outcome. Edward stayed by my side, his hand always on me in some way, rubbing my back, resting on my knee. He spoke to the nurse, helped me sign whatever needed to be signed, urging them away as fast as he could. At one point, he kneeled in front of me, his hand cupping my cheek, pulling me from my mind.

And as if on cue, the moment our eyes connected, I could hear wheels against the hardwood upstairs. Then the stairs creaked, two pairs of feet stomping down as I winced with every step until they hit the bottom. Metal squeaked, a sheet moving, and Edward stayed in front of me, watching me, grabbing my hands to hold in his own to provide a comfort I so desperately needed. I didn't turn around. I couldn't watch them take him away, so instead, I bowed my head, feeling Edward gather my hands and bring them to his lips as he whispered words of strength that were lost between my sobs.

The few people remaining in the house left with their final condolences, leaving only the two of us.

"Bella?" He asked in a whisper, my head shaking.

" _I can't_." I choked.

"What can I do?" He asked in a plea, gripping my chin, forcing me to look at him as he wiped at my cheeks. I was silent, looking over him, seeing the fatigue in his face. In the last few weeks, he had taken care of me, just as much as I had taken care of Charlie. He was my boulder, my support to lean on, and he had been there through every minute of it. Through my grief and pain, a new kind of love for him blossomed. I gripped him, pulling him into a hug as I wept in his shoulder. He held me tightly, running his fingers along the spine of my back to soothe me.

"I can't be here." I spoke pleadingly.

He nodded and gathered me up, grabbing only a few necessary things before directing me out of the house. Each step was a stab, each inch cut a little deeper. When I sat in his car, I looked up at Charlie's window, wiping away the new tears.

When we entered the loft, Edward helped me up the stairs, my body feeling weighed down, as if I could fall at any moment. He took off my coat, walking me towards the bed, feeling confident enough I could make it there before letting go to place his keys and wallet onto the island. The moment he was gone, I stumbled, my hands reaching out, bracing myself as my knees hit the floor, causing a cry to leave me. Edward was at my side, apologizing, kneeling in front of me, trying to coax me up, but I shook my head, gripping onto his shirt as I choked out a sob.

"Why did they leave me?" I cried, my breath staggering. Edward watched helplessly, shaking his head. "They left me. They _both_ left me. Please, don't leave me." He grabbed me, bringing me into his arms, a hand cradling the back of my head, his fingers weaving through my hair as he started to sway.

"I've got you." He said simply, his words tied with a promise.

I was unsure of how long we had stayed on the ground, how long it took for him to rock me until I succumbed to a silent lull. He eventually carried me to the bed, tucking me under the covers before crawling next to me. I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, but he stayed attentive, his hand running up and down my arm as silent tears left the corner of my eyes. He caught each one, wiping them away before pressing a prolonged kiss onto my forehead. I could feel my bottom lip pouting, a choking cough leaving me as I tried to hide it, quickly finding safety in the crook of his neck, his arms wrapping and holding me tight against him, providing me safety.

* * *

 _AN: Firstly, I'd like to thank my readers for sticking with this story so far. Thank you for favoriting, following and reviewing. I hope that you feel the same love reading it when I write it._

 _Thank you to Fran, who always seems to be my voice of reason. I also am so thankful to have along this journey of Obstacles with me!_

 _As you know, I said that this would be the last chapter. I have great news for you, it's not! We still have one more chapter after this and then the epilogue. Here is the even better news - the last chapter is already written and edited! I wrote it all as one chapter but it was about 30 pages long and over 13,000 words. I split it for two reasons. One, I felt the ending wasn't exactly where I wanted it to be, so this gives me a little bit more time to go back and change anything I need to. Two, that will give me more time to work on the epilogue without you guys having to wait so long for it._

 _Please expect the final chapter next week (maybe even earlier)! I am actually having surgery tomorrow (send positive vibes!) so, once I am healed, I'll start any last minute tweaks and get it to you guys as soon as possible._

 _I know this was a tough chapter. It was extremely hard to write it. I am eager to hear what you think, so please let me know._

 _See you next time,_

 _ii_


	25. Obstacles

_Chapter Song - If I Go, I'm Going by Gregory Alan Isakov_

 _This house,_  
 _She's quite the talker._  
 _She creeks and moans._  
 _She keeps me up._

 _And the photographs,_  
 _Know I'm a liar._  
 _They just laugh as I burn her down._

 _And I will go if you ask me to,_  
 _I will stay if you dare._  
 _And if I go I'm goin' on fire,_  
 _Let my anger take me there._

 _The shingles man they're shaking,_  
 _Back door's burning through._  
 _This old house she's quite the keeper,_  
 _Quite the keeper of you._

 _I will go if you ask me to,_  
 _I will stay if you dare._  
 _And if I go, I'm goin' crazy,_  
 _Let my darlin' take me there._

* * *

I couldn't sit still.

My leg bounced, my thumb tapping along the console between the front seats as my stomach turned in knots. Tears were threatening their escape as I looked out the window, the dreary day accompanied by a man in a black suit, standing at a grave. I found it difficult to look at him for more than a few seconds, the anxiety swallowing me as I leaned forward, letting out a choking breath, finding it difficult to center myself.

"Bella?" Edward whispered next to me, his hand rubbing up and down my back to soothe me. I sat up, my hair flying around my face as the man in the black suit, and I caught each other's sight as he waited for us patiently.

"No, I can't. I can't do this." I said in one breath, my voice ending with a gasp.

"Bella," Edward said pointedly, his tone supportive but hard.

"I thought I could, and I can't, and I need you to take me home," I looked to him, tears threatening their way out. "Please." I pleaded. He was conflicted, his hand over my jacket, calming me.

"I think you'll regret it if we leave," He said honestly as I shook my head. "You've been prepared for this."

"Charlie didn't even want this." I challenged with a cry.

"This isn't for Charlie. It's for you. _You_ are the one who called the priest," He challenged as I let out another choking breath, dropping my forehead into my palm. "If you really want to go, then you know I will help you. But I don't think you should."

"His body isn't even there," I argued, waving to the scene in front of us.

"It's not about that. Do you remember what you said to me the other night?"

"I was emotional." I fought.

"You said you felt this would help bring you closure."

"But I don't know if I want that, Edward," I admitted, the words leaving me before I had time to even process them. It wasn't true. I wanted closure. Charlie had been dead for a week and each day came with their own complications, their own heartaches. Some days, I would cry, let myself wither in tears and wallow in pity. Other days, I was angry, and I would lash out at Edward who took it like a champion and never held it against me. But most days, I found myself in bed, unemotional, stoic, unwilling to admit that my parents were gone.

I thrived for recovery, begged for it. I wanted to be better and healthier, I wanted to move on.

I thought that a burial would fix that. Help me bring the closure I just didn't have. When I brought up to Edward, I had already called the priest from the church, earning his agreement to meet us here. Charlie didn't want a funeral. He didn't want the flowers, the casket, or the church. He would be content with little fuss. It was what he wanted.

 _I_ still needed something.

But the moment we rolled into the cemetery, the moment I saw the priest standing at an unmarked plot just a few yards away, I was brought back to my mother's funeral. I remember the way Gran held onto me, squeezing me to the point of pain. I remember the priest talking about her, highlighting her best qualities as the strangers around the room dabbed at their tears. I remember it being too much, so much, to the point that I had to leave and had a breakdown in the bathroom upstairs.

Anxiety filled every crevice of me. I wanted to let go. I wasn't sure if I was ready.

"You're ready." Edward's voice found me as if he read my mind. I looked at him, his palm caressing my cheek as his thumb wiped at my tears. My pillar. He was my strength, my voice of reason. He was my punching bag and my safety. He was everything I needed him to be, even if I didn't deserve it. He grounded me, held me when I couldn't do anything but cry. He loved me completely, even in the thick of my grief. And not a moment went by, that I wasn't grateful.

I felt his strength, his encouragement filling me. He knew it too. He knew that all it took was his touch to relax me, to bring me back down to earth and level me. I reached up, covering my hand with his that rested against my cheek, my head tilting to give him a nod. He reached over the console, pressing a kiss to the side of my head before stepping out of the car. I let out a few deep breaths, leveling myself, listening to his footsteps until the door click open.

I stayed still for a moment, closing my eyes as my breathing slowed, battling with myself to step out of the car. I knew this moment would come. I knew all of these moments would come. I had tried to prepare myself for my father's death, for his burial, for his absence. Unlike my mother's death, I had a warning with his. I knew it would happen, yet, it didn't seem to matter. No warning could help you. No preparation could make you ready.

Edward held out an umbrella, but he didn't rush me and instead stayed to the side. I spoke to myself, whispering a few words of encouragement before I took in a big breath of air, exhaling from my nose as I stepped one leg out, my heel touching the gravel as I reached for the hand that extended to me. When I met him under the umbrella, he closed the door behind me, his palm pressing to the small of my back as if to urge me, once again giving me his strength.

When we reached his grave, I felt my chest constrict, reading over the temporary grave marker repeatedly. Edward had reached out and shook the hand of the priest who waited for us as I gave him a terse nod as a small thank you, unable to move from my spot.

He began his prayer at the head of the grave as Edward, and I stood to the side, rain pelting down, rolling off the umbrella and around us. I felt seized in this moment, overcome with the same sadness that plagued me for days. I drowned out the noise of the prayer, focusing on the drumming of the rain, comprehending his name on the marker again and again. I was brought back to a memory of the moment I saw him after fourteen years of being apart, the look on his face when he mistook me for my mother, and then the shock of the realization that it was me.

How did we get here?

I replayed moments in my head, both good and bad. Taking care of him, making him dinner, helping him live a normal life. I remembered the whispered comments when he was annoyed as I hid my laughter, not trying to encourage him. I scolded him, yelled at him, made him feel like a horrible father, when, in reality, I had no idea of the truth. I thought back before his interview at the plant, when we stood in the foyer as I helped him get ready. His tie was crooked, and despite him trying to do it on his own, I fixed it for him. We bickered back and forth about what he should wear, but it seemed as if, for the first time in a long time, we were comfortable in each other's presence. We had to compromise on his outfit, but the ends justified the means. It was a brief moment, but I don't think I would ever part with it.

Tears slipped from the corner of my eyes, my right hand reaching for Edward's that rested around my hip. I could feel him turn to look at me, but I stayed still, watching the grave. His hand dropped from my waist, grabbing ahold of my other hand and locking our fingers together as he squeezed, holding me down, keeping me from floating away.

The priest didn't know Charlie well, so he made no attempt to talk about him on a personal level. I was grateful for this, and when he finished, he left us with a small blessing, hoping for peace and comfort. Edward thanked him for both of us, leaving us with the grave. I wasn't sure if the plan had worked, if the priest's words had helped me, to be honest – I wasn't even sure if it was his comfort I was looking for. I was hoping that seeing the grave, body or not, would give me a sense of finality.

We stood in silence, huddled together until I broke away from Edward and the safety of the umbrella. He let go of me, watching as I entered the rain, the coolness a comfort as I reached the unmarked marker. Hesitantly, I leaned down next to the dirt, my hand reaching as my fingers traced his name.

I wish I had done more for him, wish I had known the truth earlier, spent more time together and less time fighting. I wish it had been different. I thought of all the ways it could have been, reuniting with him sooner, helping fight his addiction like I did with my mother, giving him a better life. I was angry at how many times I dismissed him or how I didn't express how I felt when I knew that was what he needed. He lived a life of loneliness, one he didn't deserve.

Warmth appeared under my eyes as I wiped at them, the saltiness mixing with the rain, hoping that wherever he was now, he knew how sorry I was.

"He would have died alone," The rain had abruptly stopped, and I turned to see Edward crouched just behind me. "His liver was going no matter what. But at least, you were there." He said as I looked back to the dirt. His perspective had me lost in thought. Had I not come back, Charlie would have died without me at his side, truly alone. It broke me, tore me, plagued me to see him lifeless, another memory I would never part with. But, I took comfort in knowing he left with me there, knowing I loved him. "I would have tried to be there, but knowing his pride, he probably would have hidden it from me."

"You would have checked on him."

"I would have. But it would have been too late. And it wouldn't have mattered, he would have died without making amends with you. Charlie could be cold, but he wasn't heartless. You gave him the best gift you could. Forgiveness." He finished, reminding me that the small fact of being with him at the end, made every ounce of pain I felt worth it. He lived in solitary for so long, abandoned by the people who were supposed to support and help him. I would always feel guilty for being separated, but the time I had with him was better than none.

My hand reached for the small pile of dirt off to the side, it crunching under my fingers as I held it over the grave, sprinkling it on the top before resting my palm against it. I bowed my head, as if in prayer, and closed my eyes.

 _I love you._

Thunder rumbled; my eyes opening as fresh new tears rolled down my cheeks, my fingers lifting from his grave, the moment making me feel vulnerable. My throat tightened as I whispered a goodbye, standing with Edward. I felt warmth against my wrist, and I turned to see green eyes watching me, his expression wistful. I went to him, enveloping myself in his arms. As we walked away together, I took once last look over my shoulder.

Edward drove us back to the loft in silence, but I had appreciated it. I wasn't ready to talk, and the feeling of his hand in mine gave me the courage I needed to not break. The rain had lessened, but the clouds stuck around, the town gray and blue to match the day. When we parked and exited the car, Edward slowed in front of Masen's, pausing just at the door that held a sign that read … _Closed for Private Event_.

I looked at him curiously, watching as he grabbed the handle, opening it up to reveal the same Masen's that I knew, except, it was filled with almost everyone from the town. Music played as Riley served behind the bar, Harry Clearwater sitting in his normal seat sipping a beer. Those who knew Charlie sat at the tables, boys in blue (including Jacob), playing pool with Billy Black in his wheelchair not far off. Jasper and Emmett stood by the bar with Alice and Rosalie, Carlisle and Esme just off to the side. I looked to Edward incredulously, who only smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

"He wanted this," He said, looking back to the guests. "I think his exact words were, _I don't want a damn funeral, just give everyone free shots of whiskey on me_."

I couldn't help but laugh, the feeling foreign, but it _felt_ good. I covered my mouth, tears pooling in my eyes as I gained the attention of Edward's family, Alice running to us with a cocktail in her hand, wrapping her arms around me, showering me with sympathy. I made my way through all of them, hesitating at Rosalie, who spared me a smile and a hug.

"I'm sorry." She said as if she were apologizing for more than just Charlie. I nodded at her, passing on to Esme, who held me so tight, it reminded me of my mother's hug. I reveled in it, thanking her for coming before moving to Carlisle, who wiped away a stray tear.

"He was so lucky to have you." He told me, causing more streams. I wiped them away, hugging him, thanking him for all the help he gave me and all the help he gave to Charlie, especially in his last days. I moved away from the Cullens, making my rounds to the people who sat at tables, thanking them for coming to celebrate Charlie. It seemed as everyone had a story about him, at least one pleasant memory to share. And even though the majority of the stories involved whiskey, they wouldn't be Charlie without it.

Jacob hugged me, apologizing that he wasn't around enough to support me. I waved him off, noticing moisture in Billy's eyes, the loss of his friend taking a bigger toll on him. I reached down and embraced him, telling him that Charlie was grateful for his companionship. As I talked to a few other townspeople, I made my way to the bar, talking with Harry Clearwater as he told me stories of his times with my father in this bar. The music had suddenly quieted, and someone clearing their throat had caught everyone's attention, my eyes resting on Edward, who stood at the front near the window, a bottle of water in his hands.

"I just wanted to say thank you all for coming, on behalf of Charlie," He began as everyone quieted, "I think you all know I was Charlie's sponsor for the times he _wanted_ to be sober, which wasn't often," His tone was light, the people around the room laughing. "Charlie was a lot of things, but boring was not one of them. He knew how to work the room and on more than one occasion, found himself in a lot of trouble because of it. But it was never a dull moment with him, he made sure of that. He found himself in more trouble than anyone else I knew, but I think he secretly liked the theatrics of it, even if that meant getting punched in the nose by Paul." Edward turned to Paul, Emmett clasping his hand onto his shoulder, the two sharing a boisterous laugh as I shook my head.

"I can admit that he frustrated me more than anyone else I was a sponsor over. He tested my patience and didn't listen when I needed him to and even showed up to meetings drunk off his ass," Edward shook his head as the crowd laughed again, rubbing at his temple. "But, he tried. And I'll always give him credit for that. And, he helped me in more ways than one. Before I was who I am now, he got me out of trouble, took a chance on me when very few others would. And he brought something to me," He paused, his eyes finding mine, which were filled with tears. "Something I will never take for granted. I made promises to him before he died, and I intend to keep them all. Let's begin with the one that promised a free round of whiskey for anyone who wants it."

Laughter and cheers erupted, a few applauses as Riley began pouring shots, people lining up to grab them. Everyone crowded around the bar, Alice at my side as she rubbed my arm, an encouraging smile as Riley slid the last glass in my direction. I studied it, shaking my head with a laugh as I grabbed ahold, everyone turning their attention to Edward, who still held his water bottle.

"To Charlie Short-Cut Swan!" Emmett roared from the bar, kneeling on one of the chairs.

"To Charlie," Edward said.

"To Charlie!" The crowd repeated, heads tilting back as everyone, besides Edward, took their shot. I watched my glass, hesitating, absorbing the moment.

 _To Charlie_.

It burned going down, both physically and emotionally. It seemed counterintuitive, but at the sound of glasses hitting the table ended, conversation picked up once again, and I realized that Charlie would have had it no other way. A bar full of people he enjoyed the most, taking pleasure in his favorite drink, rather than mourning him at the casket. I could feel the emotions bubbling up again, threatening their way out as I stared at the empty shot glass, wishing to hear his voice one last time. I felt Alice squeeze me as if she could feel my confliction, just as the song _Free Bird_ wafted through the speakers. I turned to her with a smile, embracing her, glad to have her friendship as I watched over her shoulder at Edward, who was accompanied by Carlisle, the two embracing.

The rest of the night went on, slowing as the sun set, the crowds disappearing, sharing their condolences as they departed. When Edward's family left, we retired to the loft upstairs. I took a shower, washing myself of the day just before brushing my teeth, making sure I rid of any smell or taste of alcohol before I got into bed. When I left the bedroom in a black tank top and shorts, I noticed Edward making the bed. I met him at the bottom, grabbing the sheet to help him bring it to the top.

"Can I ask you something?" I questioned as he looked at me with a nod, tucking the sheets at the corner of the bed. "You said you promised Charlie things," I paused, watching as he grabbed the pillows and setting them at the headboard. "I saw you guys talking. Before he died."

"Yes," He answered quickly. I knelt onto the bed, searching his eyes as he tugged off his sweater, leaving him in a white T-shirt and dark pants. "He apologized for what happened with your mom. He was sorry he put me in the middle of it," He paused as I nodded, swallowing hard. "We both had things to get off our chest. But, he needed me to help him, tie loose ends. So, I made some promises."

"What else did you promise him?" I asked curiously, watching as he ran his fingers through his crimson hair. His muscles flexed under his tight shirt, his eyes cutting to mine, finding safety in our gaze. Slowly, he reached out, cupping my cheek as his warmth instantly relaxed me.

"He asked me to look after his little girl." He whispered, my lips pressing together as I felt my body seize, imagining Charlie saying those words, a desperate plea as he knew that soon he would no longer be here. I felt a shaky breath leave me, my hand reaching up to grab his hand that still rested against my face. My eyes opened, watching as he studied me, his other hand coming to brush my hair back. "I promised him I always would."

The rawness of the moment, the choke in his voice had told me that he intended to keep that promise, above all else. Once again, the emotions took ahold of me. But this time, it was different. Yes, the sadness was still there. The ache of never seeing either of my parents again would always haunt me.

But there was light.

There was hope.

And it was Edward. It was our past, our present, and our future. I loved him with every ounce I had in me, to the point where it made it difficult to even comprehend.

I reached for him, grabbing the end of his shirt to tug him towards me, indicating my intent. _It had been so long_. When our lips met, he seemed to match my frenzy, letting go only long enough to help us undress each other, our lips always finding their way back. He moved away, giving him ample time to tug my tank top, finding my breast just underneath it as he kissed at my collarbone, up my neck, across my jawline, and finally back to my lips. When he lifted me from my seated position, I smiled, the two of us falling against the mattress.

The weight of him on top of me was something I had missed desperately. Feeling him so close, being with him like this. How senseless I was to give this up. _To give him up_. He was away from my face, kissing me all over, removing the last few bits of my clothes, paying close attention to my hips and waist, making me feel so loved and wanted when I had felt nothing but emptiness inside of me for weeks. I missed him more than I could admit. How stupid I was to leave him behind. How thoughtless I was to leave the one constant I needed when everything else around me was chaos.

I had abandoned him.

But he accepted me back, held my hand through Charlie's death, helped lift me but keep me grounded all at the same time. He loved me. He promised Charlie he'd look after me. And when I pulled away to look at him, I saw the heat in his eyes along with the look of true love. I was moved by it, feeling the tears spring to my eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey," He whispered as I choked, trying to cover my face, but he restrained me from doing so, cupping my cheeks between his hand. Slowly, we sat up, his fingers working to move my hair behind me, his lips kissing my forehead. "Please don't cry." His voice was pained at the sight of me.

"I'm sorry." I choked, apologizing for crying, apologizing for leaving him, seeing the confusion on his face. He gripped me, his thumb rubbing against my cheek as he pressed a kiss to my lips, holding it there.

"I love you." He whispered against the kiss, his words low and true. The honesty pouring out of him, surrounding me in a comfort I craved.

I allowed my tears to dry as we held onto each other. I could feel his heartbeat against my chest, could feel every ounce of love he had for me in this one embrace. Every second with him was never long enough, every touch from him was fire against me, warming me, making me feel like I didn't belong anywhere else but in his arms.

When we resumed, it wasn't frantic. The frenzy of what began melted into an undeniable love. I watched him from on top, his body resting against the bed as I lifted my hips, helping him align before I slowly dropped, feeling him enter me. I had cried enough tears to last a lifetime, but the moment we connected again, it brought on a few more. His hands found my hips, sliding under as he helped move me, guiding me in a perfect rhythm that consumed every fiber of our beings. I opened my eyes to watch him below, the way his jaw went taut, his bottom lip catching between his teeth just before he let out a moan of approval. I reacted, reaching down and gripping at the skin of his abdomen, raking my fingers across.

We spent minutes like this, building up the slow tempo until he wanted control, sitting up, so we were face to face. His arm went around me as he conducted a faster pace. His lips were at my neck, his free hand tangled in my hair as we moved together, my nails digging into his shoulders as I felt the pit in my stomach warming, ready to release. Quickly, he flipped us, so I was on my back, and he was controlling the movements, our lips together, and then apart as we cried out in unison, whispering adorations and promises to each other.

"I missed you," I whispered against his forehead, the two of us naked in the center of the bed, sated and satisfied. My fingers stroked through his hair, holding him close to my chest as the sheets tangled around our bare legs. He hummed his agreeance, pressing an opened mouth kiss to the base of my throat as his fingers slid down my bare side.

"I missed you," He whispered against my warm skin, my lips pressing together to hide my smile. "I wouldn't have survived if you didn't come back."

"I don't believe it."

"It's true." He said matter-of-factly as he continued to press his lips down the slope of my neck.

"You would have found someone else," I began with a quiet tone, but he shook his head, disagreeing. "She would have been blonde. Would have had a one-syllable name. Like Claire. Or Ann. Or Dawn," I laughed as he snorted, adorning my collarbone. "She would be book smart. Like, freakishly smart. Graduated from an Ivy League school, got her master's but would never do anything with it."

"God, what would she be doing with someone like me?"

"You make her laugh. Before she met you, she would have dated office men, straight-edged, boring. You'd be something new to her," I smiled, my nails raking along his jaw. "She'd like to run as a hobby, and volunteer wherever she could. She'd help you with the AA meetings, bring refreshments and snacks."

"Does she want kids?" He asked, playing along.

"Doesn't matter. You'd knock her up by your six-month anniversary," I teased as he choked. "Twins. Little Edward and Dawn."

" _Jesus_."

"That reminds me, she's very religious. Hope you grew up Catholic because you are going to Mass every Sunday."

"Give me something good; do we at least get out of Forks?" He questioned. I scrunched my nose, watching as he pulled away, his shoulders deflating in defeat. "Damn it."

"You guys stay here, in the loft, with your twins. And your pet cat."

"Cat?"

"She's a cat person, did I not mention that?"

"Nope, that's the deal breaker. It's dogs or nothing." His voice was firm as I threw my head back, laughing hysterically as he smirked in response, once again attacking my neck. We rolled in the bed as I tried to escape his fingers that tickled my side, my hands pushing him away as we rolled back into the middle, entangled in each other's arms. As our laughter subsided, we kissed sweet and quick pecks in between our smiles.

"She's not for me," He whispered, reaching forward to kiss the tip of my nose, his fingers smoothing over the apple of my cheek. "It would have been pointless."

"You would have moved on," I told him, stroking his jawline. He caught my gaze and studied me, his chest moving as he took in air, exhaling through his nose noisily, as if he was unconvinced by my comment.

"Would you have?" He asked as I fell silent, already knowing my answer.

"No," I admitted, reaching up to brush the hair from his face. His emerald eyes watched me as they held so much unbridled emotion, something he made me feel every single day. The thought of being back in a place where he wasn't was foreign to me. Even through my anger when we were separated, he was always on my mind. Trying to rid myself of him would be like trying to rid yourself of your soul. It was impossible. I moved closer, tucking my head under his chin as my arms wrapped around his naked torso. "Thank you for taking care of me. I know I haven't made it easy."

I felt a kiss at the top of my head, fingers lazily running up and down the ridges of my spine as he breathed me, squeezing tighter. "You've made it better." He said, and I couldn't help but laugh, feeling him pull away as he smirked, touching my chin.

"I've been a mess."

"You are grieving."

"I wouldn't have been able to do it without you," I confessed, my tone set. A silence overcame us, his finger hooked as it slid down the profile of my face, stroking gently. I closed my eyes, drinking his touch, his body leaning slightly until I felt his lips on my forehead, a hum leaving my throat as I soaked in the tender moment. "I love you."

He smiled, kissing me again. "I love you. Now, come here." He said, grabbing me I shrieked, feeling lifted from my spot and onto his lap, our laughter soon fading as we consumed one another for the rest of the night.

xx

In the weeks following Charlie's death, I spent time healing in the company of Edward and his family. When Edward had to work, I was with Alice and Esme, even sometimes Rosalie. Where I lacked in family, they made up for in abundance. I was grateful for them all, for keeping me company and distracted me from mourning. There were still times I was weak, letting myself cry when I touched my mother's wedding ring that now adorned my pointer finger, or when I was able to smell whiskey all the way from the bar below. It was little things, phantom reminders, but the ache was all the same.

Edward was supportive of my healing, cheering me up, laughing with me when he could, but then sticking with me through my breakdowns. He never judged; he allowed me to grieve in my own way.

A few days after the burial, we were watching a movie on the couch when someone knocked on the door. Edward left me and went to answer and I curiously peeked over the banister, watching as a man in a post office uniform handed him a brown envelope. He looked up at me from the bottom of the stairs, nodding towards the piece of mail. I met him halfway, grabbing it, and looking over the official envelope. I turned it over, ripping open the seal before pulling out stapled papers, the top in bold _printed, Last Will and Testament_. I looked up to Edward before turning, climbing the stairs and finding the edge of the couch, reading through the formal letter.

 _I, Charlie Swan, being of full age and sound mind and memory, do make, publish and declare this to be my Last Will and Testament, hereby revoking and annulling any and all Last Will and Testaments or Codicils at any time heretofore made by me._

 _All of the rest and residue of my property, real and personal, of every kind and description and whosesoever situate, which I may own or have the right to dispose of at the time of my death, I give, devise, and bequeath in equal shares to Isabella Marie Swan._

"He's leaving the house to me?" I questioned, setting the papers down in my lap as I looked up to him. "Can he do that when there's still money owed on it?" The loan I had taken out and have slowly been paying back was not nearly enough to pay for the rest of the mortgage, only to cover what was past due. Through the papers, I noticed the deed to the house, a letter from Charlie's mortgage company, confirming that the remaining balance was paid off in full, plus some, a credit being sent back in my name. "How did he…" I paused, knowing full well that Charlie didn't have the means to do this. I looked up to Edward, who watched me hesitantly. "Did you do this?"

"It was the last thing he asked for." He said, my lips pressing together to contain how I felt. "There should be something else in there."

I opened the envelope, finding a small piece of paper folded in half. I pushed everything aside, tentatively opening it to find Charlie's handwriting.

 _B,_

 _I know you are going to hate this. Just take it for what it is and don't complain (even though I know you want to). And don't get mad at Edward, I told him to do it._

 _I don't have much to leave behind, but I have the house. I know it's not the best thing to give you, especially the shit we went through in it. But it's all yours. Including everything inside. There are a few things in the attic from your childhood you may want. Other than that, keep the house, sell it, demolish it, it doesn't really matter. Do what you think is right._

 _I'm sure this is coming to you after I've already gone. And I'm sure you are moping around, wishing you could have done more. I promise you that you did everything that you could. You got too much life left to waste any more on me. Go do something, go be something. Get your ass into gear and get started._

 _Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself._

 _Love ya, kid._

 _Dad_

I traced over his words, smiling to myself with tears in my eyes. Slowly, I closed the letter, looking up to Edward, who watched me tentatively, gauging my reaction. "The loan?" I asked.

"I may have paid a little more than what was owed. The extra is being sent back to your bank, enough to cover what was left of the loan." He said simply, shrugging his shoulders. I stood from the couch, pushing the envelope and its content to the side, making my way to him before wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his as a silent thank you. Shocked by my reaction, he settled into our position, wrapping his arms around my waist as he lifted me, holding me tight against him. When the kiss settled, I took the opportunity to smack his side, to which he scrunched his nose in pain.

"Anymore promises I need to be aware of?" I asked as he smirked, shaking his head.

"That was it." He said with a nod and a promise as I wrapped myself back into him, reminding myself that even through the worst of it, I was so lucky to have him.

xx

"Hey, I found some boxes in the attic!" Edward shouted from the stairs as I stood in the kitchen of my old childhood home, grabbing anything that could be donated and setting it into the empty boxes that scattered across the counters. It had been a few weeks since I received the deed to the house, and Edward and I made plans to start packing it up, giving what we could to Goodwill. It took much convincing on Edward's end to get me to this point. For weeks, I avoided it, the emotions too much to be back in the home where I watched my dad die. But Edward reminded me it was mine now, and I couldn't let it sit around collecting dust.

We did baby steps at first, coming over for a visit before we even entertained packing things up. It was a process, but it worked. Slowly, I came around to the idea of starting to let go, parting with things I would never need but held sentimental value. Carlisle encouraged this process, telling me I needed to start purging, removing things that were not of value to me. The sooner I could do it, the sooner I could move on. But everything was easier said than done. I had a meltdown before we even taped the boxes, the reaction making me frustrated with myself. Edward stayed patient, and little by little, we came over and packed at least one box until one box became two and two became three.

That pain was still there, like when I watched the things I grew up with, such as the bottle with the ship in it, or the books from the shelves being boxed away. I wasn't sure if the pain would ever leave me, but at least now it was manageable.

I heard feet on the staircase, Edward appearing with his hat on backward, the sleeves of his sweaters rolled up to his elbows, his arms full as he slid the boxes onto the dining room table. When he dropped it, a cloud of dust appeared, and he coughed, his hand waving away in front of him as he walked away to get a clean breath of air. I laughed at him, reaching for the boxes, wiping the grime from the writing at the top, it labeled _Family_. Curious, I slowly opened it, coming face to face with items from my childhood. I grabbed hold of my old blanket, worn from age, my fingers feeling the roughness of it, sticking through the holes that were recently new and moth-eaten. I found a few more items, some rattlers, clothes, and toys. At the very bottom was a large book, and when I pulled it out, I realized that it was a baby book.

My eyebrows furrowed as I opened the front page, finding my birth certificate along with a piece of cardstock with my name and footprint and even my mother's hospital bracelet. When I moved to the next page, there were several pictures of me as a baby, lying on my back in my crib, my mother holding me close to her face as she smiled at the camera. I found myself reflecting the same smile, my eyes watering as the revelation of this unknown treasure.

"What's this?" Edward asked, returning to the dining room. I stayed silent, moving to the next page to find a picture of all three of us. My mother was holding me while Charlie was holding the camera, taking a picture in the mirror. He smiled down at us as my mother and I looked to our reflections. "I thought you said they didn't take pictures."

"I didn't think they did," I whispered, leafing through the last few pages, stopping just shy of a picture of Charlie and me. We were in front of the house, and he was kneeling, his arm around my waist as I wore a bright yellow dress with flowers, my hair curled and tucked behind my ears as I had my backpack on. We were both smiling, the memory lost on me with age. I pulled the picture out, turning it around to notice my mother's handwriting … _Bella's first day of school_.

I felt a swell of emotions, holding in a breath as I placed it back into the protection of the plastic, wiping at the tears that fell. "We'll get them framed. All of them." Edward said to me as I turned to him, pressing down on my bottom lip, trying to hold back a cry. He reached for me, wiping at the tears, placing a kiss against my nose.

He left, leaving me with the boxes as I set the book back into it.

As the day went on, Edward and I finished boxing up what we were donating to Goodwill. We started placing the boxes on the front porch, then carrying them out to the car.

"What are you going to do with it?" He asked me as I looked at him in question, his gaze nodding towards the house. "The house? What are you going to do?"

Looking at it was both bitter and sweet. Contrasting emotions imploding inside of me, leaving me with an unanswered question. I looked back to Edward and shrugged, running my fingers through my hair.

"I don't know. Maybe rent it? I have no use for it." I answered.

"We could fix it up. Make it livable." He suggested as my nose scrunched, shaking my head.

"What?"

"I'm not staying here."

" _We_ don't have to stay. But we can fix it up for the next family, increase the value. Make some profit out of it." He said, pushing the last of the boxes into the trunk of his car. He shut the trunk, wiping his brow with his forearm, removing the sweat. He met me at the edge of the walkway as we stood, examining the house.

"We need to do something since I won't be here to look after it," I said nonchalantly, avoiding his gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not staying in Forks," I told him, watching as he looked at me, a slight panic in his eyes. I could see the fear behind him, the thought of me leaving him behind once again flashing like warning signs. "Didn't you know?" I asked, my tone serious. "I'm going to San Francisco. Isn't that where you're going?"

I could see his body relax, his muscles loosening as he pushed me gently on the shoulder, my head falling back as I giggled, moving back to him as I jumped, feeling his arms grip my legs to hold me at his waist. I kissed him several times, on his cheeks, eyes, forehead, nose, and then lips. He smiled against my lips, one arm snaking up my back to twist in my hair, holding our kiss. When we parted, I stayed in his arms, brushing his crimson hair from his emerald eyes, placing another sweet kiss to the tip of his nose.

"Really?" He asked as if needing validation. I nodded, gracing him with a kiss to confirm my seriousness.

"My firm has an office in Brisbane. My boss is letting me relocate," I told him, already making the call after receiving Charlie's letter. "I'll figure out what to do with the house later. But right now, I'm going to, for once, listen to my father."

Charlie's written words rung in my head, reminding me that life was fleeting. I had no more reason to stay in Forks than Edward did. We had plans to go to San Francisco before, and there was nothing stopping us now.

"I love you." He sighed contently, brushing his lips over my jaw. I smiled, tangling my fingers through his hair.

"I love you. Thank you for waiting for me." I whispered, the sun warming our skin as he reached up, pressing my hair back before placing an open mouth kiss to my lips.

"Always." He dropped me from his waist, bringing my left hand to his lips, absentmindedly placing a kiss right to my ring finger. I wasn't sure if it was intentional, but I took it as another quiet promise. The amount of love I felt for this man was infinite, more than I had felt for anyone. I would follow him anywhere.

We broke apart, finishing the last bit of packing in the house, throwing away anything that wasn't needed anymore. When the sun began to set, we had finished enough to hold us over. I grabbed the keys from the counter just as Edward found my hand, carrying me to the foyer, but I hesitated just as he opened the door.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Can I have a minute?" I whispered, watching as his face softened. His warmness enveloped me as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to my temple, leaving me alone. I exhaled a deep breath, my eyes cast upwards to the stairs, my fingers gripping on the banister as I felt the smoothness of the wood. I closed my eyes, imagining the creaking of the wood, revealing the age of the house as Charlie groaned, making his way to his recliner, making a snide comment on his way down. I smiled as I walked from the foyer and to the living room, stopping just shy of the couch, reminiscing of the times I sat here, even as a little girl. The memories were both wholesome and painful as I thought back to the times I spent with my parents, both sober and drunk.

Still, the memories were a part of me, etched into my skin like scars.

I walked from the room, running my fingers along the wood of the dining room table, stopping just shy of the opening into the kitchen. It was nearly empty, nothing but counter space and the same table that had been there since before I was born. The sun leaked from the window, creating a golden hue that shone on Charlie's normal chair, closest to the fridge. I walked towards it, grabbing the back of the other chair, pulling it out as I slowly sat, looking at the empty seat in front of me. I imagined him, his face as he drank his whiskey, a small smirk curling as he said something sarcastic, something that made me yell at him, his eyes rolling at my reaction.

I smiled into the palm of my hand that rested against my cheek, my eyes closing to hear him laugh, the sound as clear as the last time I heard it. I opened my eyes to the empty seat, glancing down at my hands that sat at the top of the table, the keys jingling in my palm. Slowly, I moved them, reaching forward and stopping just shy of the edge, right in front of his normal seat. I felt the tears reach my eyes, and I blinked them away, curling my fingers.

"I know you'd yell at me for crying," I said, reaching one hand away to wipe at my tears. " _Enough with your damn tears. I'm not worth it!_ " I tried and failed miserably to imitate him as I let out an empty laugh, my head tilting as I wiped my eyes against my shoulder. I could see his disapproving expression, the way his mustache twitched when he scolded me. I went quiet again, watching the spot, wishing that he was here, even for another moment. "You were worth it," I whispered with a definitive nod, sniffling.

"I'm getting my ass in gear, I promise," I told him with a clearness that was unmatched. "I just wanted to sit for a minute with you. I hope you don't mind." I finished softly, leaning as the rays of sun on his seat cast a glow, the warmth making it feel as if he were truly there. I reveled in it, absorbing the last few moments with him. I watched as the specks of dust moved under the light until the sun was set enough for them to disappear, the warmth vanishing, leaving me alone. I sat silently, tears dripping from my chin to the wooden table beneath me.

When I was ready, I stood, walking away from the table with one last look, pausing at the front door. I turned again, observing my surroundings, memorizing it, taking in everything it had to offer, all the memories both good and bad. I opened the door, stepping out into the new evening, closing it shut behind me. The sound of it made me wince, my eyes closing as I turned around, reaching with the keys to slide them in, turning until the lock clicked.

I would return, of that I was certain. But when I returned, I would be different. The house would be different. I was ready to let go of the ghosts that held me hostage, ready to rid myself of the pain that kept me from moving on. I looked up at my childhood home, the wear and tear present on the outside, the paint chipped, the gutters brown, and the windows stained as if they hadn't been cleaned in years.

This was where everything started. Where I took my first steps, spoke my first words. It's where I learned how to read and write, how to make pancakes and scrambled eggs. It's where I loved my parents, where they loved me, despite their faults. I cared for them, watched after them even as a child. The unpleasant memories wouldn't leave, the ones of me dragging Charlie in from the porch, or crying in my mother's lap as she laid unconscious on the couch. But it was where they raised, celebrated, and loved me. It was where I returned after my mother died, where I helped Charlie return to a normal life to the best I could before I lost him as well.

I would never be rid of the memories, not even if I could. What happened in this house, the pain and sorrow, the happiness, and love, made me who I am … built and shaped me.

That was the thing about grief; it changed you. My life had been made up of broken pieces of glass, but they were put together to make a beautiful mosaic. Nothing about my childhood was perfect. But it was home.

This was my home.

And it was time for me to let it go.

"Goodbye." I breathed, my fingertips lifting from the wood. I stepped back, drying my eyes before turning, my gaze stumbling onto Edward, who waited for me patiently against his car. I smiled, feeling his love in every look, stepping from the porch as I crossed the yard, meeting him as he took me in his arms.

"You ready?" He asked, watching as I turned back to the house, sparing a quick glance until I turned to him, pressing my lips to his. I nodded, feeling his grip tighten as he led me to the back to the car.

The house was now my past and not part of my future. It was a past that was both joyful and tragic, one I was ready to put behind me, ready to start the next chapter. When he reached his side, he looked at me, as if needing permission to leave. I reached for him, my hand wrapping around his wrist before rubbing his hand, squeezing it in mine. I nodded my head, eager to start my future with him. He shifted his car into reverse, pulling out of the graveled driveway.

The house seemed to watch us, the inky black night casting it in a shadow. There was no one left inside to bring it warmth or light. I watched it back, catching a glance in the rearview mirror as we slowly left.

It seemed odd; no butterflies were giving me pause, no unshed tears were left in my eyes.

I had my closure. Nothing was stopping me now; I couldn't see any more obstacles in front of me.

 _The End._

* * *

 _AN: A thank you does not even come close to the gratitude I feel for my readers. To the ones who have been with me from the very beginning and the ones who found me along the way. I thank you for favoriting, following and reviewing. Your words of encouragement and love have filled me every time I posted a chapter. I felt so much support, even if this story took over a year to complete. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for always believing in me, in this story and these characters._

 _The last chapter invoked so much emotion from my readers. I was absolutely floored by the response and humbled that so many of you shared your experience with grief and loss with me. Some of you dealt with it in the past, some of you are currently in the thick of it. From broken relationships to battling addiction in loved ones, every one of you touched me. I am lucky to say that the material in this story is something I have not personally gone through. I spent many hours researching and reading to be able to accurately put it to words. For those who have or are currently dealing with these situations, I hope you find peace. And remember, forgiveness is warm. We must spread and accept it. I am awed and inspired by your strength._

 _This story would not be what it is without my beta, Fran. She stuck with me through the last year and a half, provided me wisdom and guidance and I am so thankful for her. She was a needed critic but my biggest cheerleader and I am in debt to her. Fran, you are truly amazing. Thank you so much for all that you do for not just me, but the fanfiction community in general. It does not go unnoticed._

 _The time and energy I put into this story makes it hard to see the end, but I must hit that complete button. Do not worry, an epilogue is coming. Please expect it within the next few weeks._

 _Again, thank you for everything. I will carry this experience with me forever._

 _See you next time._

 _ii_


	26. Epilogue

_Epilogue Song - Obstacles by Syd Matters_

 _Someday we will foresee obstacles,_  
 _Through the blizzard, through the blizzard._  
 _Today we will sell our uniform,_  
 _Live together, live together._

* * *

 **August 2018**

"That's the last of them," Edward said as he walked through the door of the apartment, shutting it behind him with his foot. He strode across the room, sliding the moving box from his arm and onto the kitchen counter just before tugging his cap off to wipe sweat from his brow. I stood on the opposite side, pulling out our dishes and unwrapping them from the newspaper before placing them neatly into our cabinets.

Almost fifteen hours in the car and we were finally settling into our new home. It was a small, one-bedroom apartment, no more than nine-hundred square feet, but it was smack dab right in-between my job and the university with an easy commute for both of us. Not only was it practical for the commute, but we were nuzzled right in the heart of the city, everything at our disposal. The apartment wasn't luxurious, but it had a certain charm with its brick walls and old-french style windows overlooking the city. I imagined opening them up, letting the smell of the bay breeze in while I worked on my writing and Edward studied for his classes. The vision filled me with happiness, eager to start this new life outside of Forks.

"Remind me why we picked an apartment on the fourth floor with no elevator?" He questioned as he lugged himself to the couch, flopping down with a heavy sigh.

"Because it was one of the only apartments available in our price range and close to my job _and_ your school." I countered, looking back at him over my shoulder.

"Groceries will be a bitch."

"Not as much of a bitch as getting that bedframe up here," I argued, and he laughed, nodding in agreeance. I left my spot in the kitchen, moving to the back of the couch, where I situated myself behind him, leaning over before rubbing my hands down his shoulders to his chest, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. "I'm sure we'll get used to it. Plus, this is only temporary. When we move, we'll make sure there are no stairs."

I could sense his smile, his large hand reaching up to grip one of my wrists, pulling it to his lips before placing sweet kisses to it. "I shouldn't complain. I actually should be thankful."

"For what?"

"That I will be able to come home to you every night. Fourth floor be damned." He whispered into my skin as I smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"Keep up the sweet talk, and we may need to skip dinner and go straight to christening this apartment." I challenged as his head turned, eyebrow raised.

"Is that a promise?"

"It is, but I haven't eaten since this morning, and I will more than likely keel over any second," I warned, feeling him let go of me. "How about we do something easy? I can introduce you to the world of food delivery, God knows Forks didn't have that." I laughed, pulling out my phone. An hour later our food arrived and we sat together on our tiny couch, Edward upright as my legs rested over his lap, laying my head on the arm of the chair as music played from the stereo he hooked up in the corner. We each had different containers of Thai food spread across, eating until we couldn't have another bite.

"Are you excited for your first day?" I asked, setting my empty food container to the table in front of us. While I started back in the office on Monday, Edward started both school and work. In the morning, he would go to a part-time internship at a social work office to build experience. It was unpaid, but it at least got his foot in the door and he was hopeful that when he completed his courses, they would promote him. In the evening, he would do his schoolwork and work to complete his psychology degree. He had only two semesters left, but shortly after Charlie died, he made the decision to move towards social work rather than being a psychologist, feeling he could make more of a difference.

"I am. A little nervous. All I've known the past few years is opening and closing a bar," He answered with a shrug, taking his last bite of eggroll.

"It's not your work experience that is going to matter," I began, moving my legs so I could kneel next to him. "It's going to be your personal experience. That's why you'll do better than everyone else."

"Thanks for your confidence." He smiled, reaching forward to kiss me. "And thank you for letting me do this." He stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers as I smiled, nodding my head. Edward still had his inheretenice from his father, which would help with the bills, but for the next two semesters, the only income would be mine.

"You'd do it for me." I challenged, pushing his hair back. He turned slightly, pressing his lips to my shoulder before looking back to me with his soft green eyes.

"Are you ready to go back to work?" He asked, stabbing more of his Pad Thai even though he was full. I moved closer into the couch, feeling my throat tighten as anxiety licked the inside of my chest. Charlie had died less than six months ago, but I still felt raw. Every day was a little easier, but I struggled. Sudden bouts of anger or sadness could hit me at any moment, and at one point, I worried that I had inherited my mother's bipolar traits. Before we left Forks, I confided in Carlisle, relaying my symptoms at rapid speed, to which he assured me that what I was experiencing was grief and nothing more or less. His words comforted me, but I knew I didn't make it easy for Edward.

I was conflicted about work. Siobhan had been nothing but accommodating, allowing me to relocate to San Francisco at a job I was actually qualified for. She even allowed me to take a few months off after Charlie, never entertaining the idea of me leaving again. I had so much to be grateful for, but I was anxious for my first day, hoping I could keep myself together. Charlie's death had affected me more than I had realized, both emotionally and physically. With both of my parents gone, it was hard for me to wrap my brain around it. I was appreciative for those who I still had, Esme and Carlisle taking me in as a daughter while Phil continued to remain in my corner. I was lucky, I knew that. But the emptiness I felt inside consumed me, and I didn't know how to get myself out of it.

"Bella?" Edward called, pulling me from my thoughts. "You okay?" His hand was on my knee, rubbing gentle circles as his warmth encompassed me. I nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. "You don't have to go back right now if you don't want to." This was a conversation we had almost daily now.

"We have bills now," I said, shaking my head.

"I still have plenty in my inheritance. That could cover us for a long time." He answered, gripping my hand as our fingers interlocked. "If you aren't ready, it's okay."

"I don't know if I will ever be ready. I might as well rip off the Band-Aid." I whispered, feeling his fingers tighten against mine. If Edward was anything, it was understanding. After everything he went through, with his own parents and my departure, I was amazed every day by his generosity and composure. He never pushed me away when I got mean and always held me close when I was sad. If I needed an anchor, there he was, pulling me back.

"Whatever you want to do, I'll support you." He told me, even though he didn't need to. I knew. Even if I didn't deserve it or him, I knew. I felt a burn in my chest, the same way I always felt when I thought about our inequality, about how he was so much better. I pushed the thoughts away, that being the last thing I needed to think about on top of my parents' deaths and going back to work. I looked to the open bedroom door, seeing our mattress covered with boxes. He followed my gaze, only swiveling them back to me as his eyebrow cocked.

I moved, fisting his shirt in my hands and pushed him down, his legs kicking up and under me as I straddled his lap. He had a look of amusement, a small grin tugging at his lips as he rested his head against the armrest. I reached down, finding his belt buckle, only to be stopped by his hands at my wrist.

"Are you trying to distract me with sex?" He asked through a low grunt as I moved my hips, his last word coming out as a breath of air.

"Maybe. Is it working?"

"Like you wouldn't fucking believe." A hand dropped to my waist, another curling into my hair as he grabbed a fistful, gently bringing me down to meet his lips. My hands rested on his chest, bunching his shirt, eager to feel skin to skin. His kiss was searing, his lips parting to tease my own with his tongue. I let out a throaty moan against him, feeling his hand slipping under the hem of my leggings, gripping ahold of my ass. He pulled his head from me, but stayed only an inch away, our noses barely touching as he nipped at my bottom lip, his green eyes burning holes into me. "You don't have to hide from me, Bella," His words came out in a breath, holding me still. "Anything you do, anywhere you go, I'll follow you, and I'll support you."

"I know," I whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Do you?" He asked as his eyebrows knitted. "Do you understand how much I love you? Because you've been building your wall back up and I get it. I promise you, no one gets it more than I do. But I need you to let me in." He said tightly, as I watched his Adam apple bob when he swallowed. In the midst of my grief, I would sometimes forget I wasn't the only one who lost my parents.

"I let you in," I wanted to argue, but my voice came out strangled. "You see all the bad parts."

"There are no _bad_ parts, Bella," He whispered harshly. "How could there be?" His voice softened as I felt tears well up, my hands sliding down to his side. I wanted to move, to shield myself from him, but he wouldn't let me, his hand on my bottom holding me still. "Don't hide from me. I want to see all of you. Let me help you."

"I don't deserve you."

"Bullshit." He spat. "Do you honestly believe that?" He asked as I stayed silent, every nerve inside of me telling me to run. But Edward's hold on me was so tight, I could barely move. I _did_ believe that. So many years of being lied to and left behind made me feel unworthy to someone who wanted to do nothing but shower me with attention. I hated the way I felt now. I hated the way Charlie's death spiraled me into an abyss when all I wanted was to be happy.

"Please, just kiss me," I begged, desperate for the conversation to end.

"Don't worry, I will. And I'll do more than that." He promised, his hard tone sending a chill up my spine. "But I need you to tell me you understand that I am your partner. Forget who deserves who, if we play that game, then we'll both lose. Because there are qualities less than desirable in both of us. But then there is the good," He paused, his hand down my pants pushing me forward as I felt the hardness beneath me, my mouth slacking open at the sensation. "I'll always make it good, Bella. And I know you will for me too."

"I'm confused as to what we're talking about," I whispered through my teeth, feeling his deep chuckle vibrate me.

"Everything. But don't shut me out anymore. Okay? It kills me when you do that." His voice had suddenly grown pensive, my eyes meeting his as I could see the sadness behind them. I never wanted that. I never wanted to make him feel left out. We were building a life together, and despite my uneasiness and anxiety, especially around my parents, I knew that building my wall was only going to hurt us in the end. And we had enough hurt to last a lifetime.

"Okay," I whispered softly, feeling him lean up to kiss me.

"Now …" He began, leaning up until our chests were pushed flush against each other. "We are going to finish what you started because I don't think I can hold back any longer."

 **December 2018**

"You need to get up," I felt Edward's lips against my throat, running down to my collarbone, nipping at the exposed skin as he teased me. I moaned in protest, turning myself away, which only gave him access to my naked back. His fingers skimmed the ridges of my spine, pressing wet kisses to my shoulders as he clutched my waist. "Santa has already been here, ate our cookies and everything. You can't sleep in a minute longer."

"Isn't that why we decided to stay here for Christmas? So we didn't have to deal with waking up early?" I asked against the pillow, clutching it to my chest.

"It's eleven-thirty, Bella." Edward deadpanned as I groaned again, nuzzling into the sheets that wrapped around my body. "Come on, I want you to open your gifts."

"I thought we said no gifts."

"Well, unless Santa really did leave me things under the tree, then you didn't follow that rule either." He reached down, grabbing my breast and squeezed, my eyes widening at the sudden contact. "Come on, sweet girl. I've got a lot in store for you today." He slapped my ass, teasing me before pulling away. I scowled over at him as he left the room, decked with his Christmas pajama bottoms that hung low on his lips.

Slowly, I inched out of bed, dressing in an oversized sweater, a pair of panties, and red and white striped socks that came up to mid-calf, provided by Edward. Despite my annoyance of being woken up, I couldn't help but absorb his excitement. Christmas had always been a big deal to my mom, she loved every moment of it, making it bigger than what it really needed to be, but that was what made it so great. This was the second Christmas without her and the first without Charlie and I was thankful for Edward who was trying his hardest to keep my mind off that fact.

I had gone strides in healing myself over their deaths. Ever since Edward had made me promise not to shut him out anymore, we had found a middle ground. There were still times I cracked, and the grief hit, especially around the holidays, but with Edward, he was always there to catch me. Thanksgiving had been hard, but we still made it to Forks to spend with his family. We had plans to visit Charlie's house, to check and make sure everything was still in order, but when we were on the way, I was hit with an anxiety attack. Edward took me straight back to Carlisle and Esme's before making the trip himself.

He was selfless like that, and he never complained. He had asked me not to dwell on if we deserved each other or not, but at those moments – it was hard for me not to think about it. I kept those thoughts buried inside of me, thankful he was there to help me through.

When I stepped out of the bedroom, Edward stood at the tree, turning when he heard me enter. Our tree was small, no more than five feet, but we had got it together, chopped it down, and decorated it in ungodly ornaments and tinsel. It looked like every cliché Christmas tree, but we were so proud of it.

"All right, Santa," I said, gesturing to his red pants. "You have my undivided attention."

"Sit here." He began, grabbing my shoulders to seat me on the ottoman. I laughed, watching him across from me, his face eager, and I imagined him as a little boy, with the same expression as his parents handed him his first present.

"You go first." I gestured to his gifts that I had placed together in the corner under the tree. I had bought him several books on teenage psychology, ones I knew he didn't have in addition to cologne and a witty mug that said: " _Relax, I'm a social worker_." His biggest gift, however, was a new laptop, one he desperately needed even if he would argue it was too expensive. Last, but not least, was a framed photo of us from Thanksgiving, courtesy of Alice.

"Nope, you are going first." He shook his head, glancing away from me as if something had caught his attention. I sighed, knowing there was no use in arguing, especially since I had kept him waiting for so long. I nodded, conceding as he grabbed several gifts, piling them at my feet.

I took my time opening each one, admiring the artwork he got me for my desk at work as well as a long sleeve, navy blue dress. There were small items, things that were necessary, like new wine glasses, and silverware because we seemed to be lacking forks and spoons. I laughed at the oversized hoodie because he was always tired of me stealing his, but I had him promise to wear it at least once just so it smelled like him.

The last one was a large, heavy square that had several, smaller rectangle gifts neatly wrapped on top of it. When he set it on the floor next to me, he eased back down, clasping his fingers and resting his elbows on his knees. I grabbed the first smaller, rectangle gift and opened it from the back, noticing immediately it was a frame. Turning it, my heart stopped at the sight of Charlie and me, the same picture I found in one of his letters.

I looked up to Edward, who gave me a small smile, looking back down to my lap. I grabbed the others, five framed photos from the album we found in the attic of Charlie's house. There was one of me as a little girl, dancing in the living room with my mom, one of the two of them younger than I was now, sitting on their couch. Tears fell before I even registered them, looking at the last frame of the three of us together, sitting on our porch.

"There's more." He said, gesturing to the large square gift. I picked it up, feeling the heaviness, running my shaky pointer finger under the tape. When the wrapping was gone, I stared down at a newly improved album … tan, leather bounded with the letter S decorating the front. Slowly, I opened it, the rest of our pictures adorning the pages, taking me back to my memories. I felt my chest heave, a sob leaving my throat as Edward moved close, pressing his hands into my thighs, rubbing them soothingly. Closing the album, I looked down at him, grabbing his face between my hands as I pressed a kiss to his nose, feeling every ounce of love I could for him.

"Thank you." I whispered as he nodded, reaching forward to kiss me.

"I wanted you to remember the good. Always the good, Bella." He said, wrapping his arms around my middle as I held him tight, feeling a mixture of happiness, sadness and so much love. We sat there for several minutes, taking in each other's warmth until a noise from the other side of the room broke us from our trance. I pulled away, wiping at my tears as I heard … _crying_?

"What is that?" I asked, standing. I looked down at him and he shrugged, giving nothing away. He stayed on his knees, watching as I investigated, stopping at the kitchen counter, then turning when the crying became louder, just at the hall closet. I moved slowly, gripping the doorknob, unlocking it to reveal a large red box with a bow, several holes punctured at the top. And it was … _moving_? Kneeling, I watched it cautiously, gripping the edge of the top as I popped it open to reveal two indigo eyes that blinked up at me. " _What_?" I cried, the multi-colored puppy immediately jumping out of the box at the opportunity, wiggling around my lap, panting from excitement as it wagged its tail. Overcoming the shock, I wrapped the puppy in my arms, feeling its warm breath as it licked all over my face. "A puppy?" I couldn't help but laugh, looking to Edward, who was now at my side, kneeling next to us.

The puppy was eager to spread its love, wiggling from me to Edward, nipping at his chin as he enveloped it in his arms. "She's an Australian Shepard/Husky mix." I pulled her from Edward, wanting to give her and her blue eyes more attention as I held her tightly.

"Edward, our apartment is so small." My voice betrayed me, already telling him how much I loved her.

"We're going to move in the next few years," He began with a shrug. "I needed a running partner, and you needed someone to stay with you at night while I'm at school."

"I can't believe you did this." I smiled, running my fingers through her fur, admiring her tan, gray, and white colors, black splotching at random spots. She was beautiful, unique, and quite rambunctious as she jumped from my arms, tumbling across the hardwood. I looked back to Edward, leaning forward to give him the biggest kiss, even when our new puppy tried to nudge in between us. "Best Christmas ever," I whispered against him.

 **March 2019**

"Indy. Sit." I commanded, on my knees with a Milk-Bone in my hand. Indigo watched me, blinking her blue eyes as she stubbornly stayed standing, her tail wagging at me with anticipation. "Sit," I said again, but this time she jumped, her paws pushing against my chest, trying to grab the treat from my hand. " _No_ , you rotten dog." I ground out, pushing my twenty-pound, five-month-old puppy away from me. When I went to try again, the front door of the apartment opened, the treat all but forgotten when her nails slid against our floor, darting in the direction of Edward who entered, his jacket slung over his arm. He didn't notice me at first, his expression stern with furrowed eyebrows. When he heard Indy and caught my eye, the look was immediately gone. She barked her way to him, letting her presence known as she hit just at his legs, strong enough to make him falter as he shut the door behind him, reaching down to shower her with attention.

"She's broken, you've got to take her back." I joked as he lifted her in his arms, her head dangling as her tongue hung, pure happiness on her face to be reunited with him. He walked her in my direction, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of my head before he dropped her right over me, laughing when she put me on my back. Indy rolled off, running to her basket of toys to grab her purple squeaking ball, chomping it between her teeth as it screeched. Edward sat on the couch, grabbing the ball from her and throwing it across the room as she slipped, trying to run across the hardwood.

"Why is she broken?" He asked just as she came back to him, gripping the ball again before throwing.

"She's not, just stubborn," I said, laughing, as she brought back her slobbery ball, knowing he wouldn't dare take her back. Neither of us realized the work in raising a puppy, especially Indy. She was a ball of energy who was loud and needy, despite the constant attention we gave her. She had us always on our toes, staying vigilant to her antics, making sure she was staying out of trouble, which could consist of tearing the toilet paper from the bathroom to chewing on our shoes. She was still too young to go on runs with Edward, so we spent time throwing the ball and chasing her around the couch to exhaust her, but mostly we only wore ourselves out. "I knew teaching her things wouldn't be easy, but I figured she'd at least get _sit_ down."

Edward had grabbed the ball from her grip, avoiding throwing as he held it in his palm. He straightened his back, their eyes meeting before he spoke. "Indigo, sit."

I balked the second her bottom hit the ground, and he smugly turned towards me, throwing the ball without looking as she took off. I rolled my eyes, whispering _show off_ under my breath as I sat up, moving from the floor to the couch.

"What are you doing home?" He asked, glancing at his watch. Typically, he made it home before me, just in enough time for us to share dinner until he exited to class. I shrugged my shoulders, leaning myself against him, grimacing when Indy placed the wet ball into my lap.

"Didn't feel like working today," I said honestly, grabbing the ball and moving it away from us. Edward laughed, his hand reaching down to grip at my inner thigh, exposed from the lounge shorts I was wearing. He didn't look at me, watching the wall in front of us as his expression turned stern once more. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He looked over, sparing a smile. "Tough case at work, that's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He stayed motionless just before bringing the heels of his hands up, digging into his eyes. Edward didn't have his own cases, his job as an intern was mainly paperwork, but there were off chances that he tagged along when the extra help was needed. The social worker got a free employee to assist while Edward got the experience. He was grateful for it every time, but today he was somber.

"A five-year-old being raised by her eleven-year-old sister. The mother is too high to pay the bills and put food on the table. The electricity and water had been out for weeks before someone noticed they weren't taking showers." He bit, shaking his head.

"That's awful," I whispered, feeling a weight in my stomach. "What happened?"

"We brought them to the office after a complaint, and I had to interview the eleven-year-old. It was brutal, Bella." He shook his head, leaning forward as he pressed his elbows into his knees, ignoring Indy, who sat next to him, ball in mouth. "She told me how her father was out of the picture and her mother whored herself out to pay for her addiction instead of the essentials. She told me she's begged outside of the grocery store before, hoping someone would give her money or just a fucking loaf of bread." He growled as I felt a tightness, feeling pity for the little girl who had to grow up too soon. "It made me angry for you."

"For me?" I asked, shocked. The story burned in my chest, to the point where I absentmindedly reached up to rub it. My parents were addicts, but they at least kept me fed and warm.

"All the stuff you told me about Charlie and Renee? How can parents do that to their kids?" He asked, their names like pins to my skin. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, still trying to settle the emotions I felt when we talked about them.

"It's different, Edward. I mean, my parents had their vices, but at least I got food. I mean, I had to cook it myself, but that's more than what those girls have. And the bills were paid relatively on time. In the grand scheme of things, despite what they put me through, it could have been worse. It could have been more like what those girls are experiencing. My parents were neglectful, but they weren't cruel. They loved me." I choked on the last word, gaining his attention. He reached for me, one palm steadying against the side of my neck, the other to my waist as he moved me closer.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset." He whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"You didn't. I appreciate how caring you are, but don't waste your anger on that. It's not necessary." I told him, reaching forward to push his hair from his eyes. I made a mental note to take him to get a haircut. I reached forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "This is why you'll be a great social worker. You care so much. And you want to help."

"I don't know how much help I was." He said with a scoff, rolling his eyes. "I just talked to her."

"But I bet you no one has before. No one listened to her until now. If I were her, I'd be grateful for you. Sometimes you just need someone to talk to." I assured him, the silence growing between us. He watched me carefully, his green eyes piercing as he studied me until his lips tugged into a smile, one that caused my stomach to flip. The palm on my waist grew tighter, and with a swift pull, I yelped, suddenly on his lap.

"I don't know what I did to earn you, but I'm so glad I did." He smiled, pressing his lips to mine, locking me in place, immediately overwhelmed by several senses. The hand on my neck started to snake back into my hair, grabbing a handful, gently tugging for my chin to tilt up, gaining him access to my neck as he ravaged it with his lips. We were consumed in our small bubble, and just as I felt his hands under my T-shirt, a bark broke us from our trance, our eyes swiveling to Indy who stood by the couch, clearly annoyed that we weren't paying attention to her. "Don't be a cockblocker." Edward deadpanned as I snorted, stepping off his lap and tugging him off the couch, eyeing my intent as we headed towards the bedroom.

Just before we hit the threshold, I stopped, pushing him off me as I turned to Indy, who continued to stand, watching. I straightened my back, clearing my throat before I lowered my voice, staring directly at her. "Indigo, sit."

I had to resist the urge to shove it in Edward's face, knowing I had spent hours in the last few days of my week to get that down with her. I looked back to him, grinning before I flicked my hair over my shoulder as he followed behind, grabbing my waist and pulling me to our bed.

 **April 2019**

EPOV

"Bella?" I called out as I stepped through the front door of our apartment. I moved to the kitchen, setting our dinner on the counter preparing for the sounds of nails on hardwood, but it was eerily silent. "Indy." I whistled with no response. I looked to the hooks on the wall, seeing her leash, indicating that she was, in fact, home. I tugged off my jacket and hung it over the back of one of our kitchen chairs, moving through the living room to the open door of our bedroom. The darkness of the night revealed that the bathroom was occupied, light shining through the bottom crack. Placing my fist to the door, I knocked and called, "Bella?"

Hearing the signature whine of our puppy, I reached down, grabbing the knob and slowly opened it, my eyes falling down to Bella on the floor, leaning against the wall and the tub. Indigo was lying next to her, her head in Bella's lap as she didn't even give me a second glance. I took in Bella's form, noticing that her face was pale beside the pink of her cheeks, inflamed from the tears that seemed to be a constant and unbroken stream. She looked up to me, sniffling before wiping her nose.

"I had a really bad day." It was the only thing she could get out through broken breaths as I kneeled next to her, pulling at Indy's collar, eliciting a groan to show her discontentment from being detached from Bella. At six months, the dog was a pain in my ass, but she knew when Bella was hurting, and for that, I was grateful. I pulled Bella to me, wrapping my arms around her shoulders as she began to sob. Indy made her way back to us, squeezing onto Bella's lap as she placed her hand at the top of her head, stroking through her fur as she continued to cry into me.

I knew this day was going to be tough. There was no way around it. This morning, I watched her carefully, waiting for any sign that would tell me she wouldn't be okay. I was prepared to call off work, to not go to class, but when I brought it up to Bella, she shook me away, showing off her signature smile that warmed me, making me believe. I was a _fucking_ idiot. I should have known; I should have seen. And now, she was breaking down in my arms.

It had been a year since Charlie had been gone, but his presence was felt every day. Especially by Bella. When we first moved to San Francisco, I could physically feel her keeping me out. She was hurting, revealing every ounce of pain her parents put her through, including their deaths, feeling like she had to carry that burden on her own. I spent time with her, careful not to push her, trying to keep her intact as best as I could while still trying to remain strong myself. I reflected back to when my father died, how lonely I felt afterward, even with Carlisle and Esme. Nothing crashes you down to reality faster than losing both your parents and being the last one left.

Every day was better. She stayed open, telling me when she struggled. We worked through it together, we talked openly about her parents, the easiness of it making me so goddamn proud of her. She was so brave and strong, trying to heal while moving on. I reminded her every day that she had me, even if that was hard for her to swallow at first. She kept herself open, bared herself to me, and I would never not be appreciative of it.

But today, I should have seen this coming. One year ago, she let go of the man who she regretted not spending more time with. It wasn't her fault; in fact, it wasn't even his fault. Her mother's decision put the wedge between them, and she had to live with that and the wasted time for the rest of her life. Reflecting on my dad's death, I was thankful that it was quick. He made the choice to end his life, and so he did. Charlie died slowly, little by little as Bella sat and watched, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. And she did it with such refinement and tenderness that it made my love for her so much greater.

That love didn't dissipate. If anything, it grew from being with her.

I pulled Indy from Bella again, grabbing at her legs and lifting her in my arms. Bella stayed crying as I walked her into the bedroom, Indy right at my feet as I settled her into bed. A whine at my side made me look down, Indy's paws at the edge of the bed as she blinked up at me.

"Let her up, please," Bella said through sniffles as I patted the comforter, allowing Indy to jump up. I had a strict rule of no dogs in the bed, but today I knew I had to make an exception. Indy stayed at the foot, resting on Bella's legs, watching her closely, protectively. I looked back up to Bella, my heart clenching at the tears that didn't stop. I went to wipe them away, but they were only replaced with new ones. I felt helpless, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, hoping I could soothe her.

"What can I do for you, Bella?" I whispered, my voice betraying me, showing my struggle. I didn't want to crack in front of her. I needed her to know I was here for her to lean on. But seeing her like this chipped at my exterior, my heart breaking right along with hers.

"Just hold me. Please. I just want you to hold me." She pleaded as I nodded, moving to my side of the bed. I kicked off my shoes and climbed in next to her, grabbing her waist, pulling her into me and cocooning her into my body, molding myself around her. My chest was flushed against her back, her small, delicate hands holding my arms that enveloped her as I felt her sobs wrack through, vibrating me. I closed my eyes, holding in composure as I leaned forward, pressing soft kisses to the back of her head, letting her know I was still here. "I don't want to hurt anymore." She finally said through a sob as I nodded, swallowing hard.

"I know," I whispered, squeezing her a bit tighter.

"Why did they leave me?" She wept, repeating the same words I had heard before. I had no answer for her, nothing I could say to comfort her when she asked me that. All I could do was hold her through this and hope it was enough.

She cried for several more hours until the sliver of morning light shone through our window. I stayed up with her, peeling her hair back that clung to her damp cheeks. I reminded her of my love for her, reminded her that none of this was her fault and that it was okay to cry and grieve. Though her sobs continued, I could hear and feel them lessen as the night went on, dwindling until she was tired enough to fall asleep.

I stayed up, restless, feeling the weight of her anguish on my chest, trying to hold it up for her.

 **June 2019**

My heels clicked against the stone of the pathway up to the stairs of our apartment, Edward right behind me. He stayed silent, knowing I was close to bursting if he even muttered a word. Angry, I wrung my hair out, the water dripping to the concrete beneath me as the thunder served as a harsh reminder that I was completely defeated. Reaching the door, I fumbled with the keys, biting back a frustrated cry when I couldn't get the lock to click open. I felt his warmth before even physically feeling him, his hand coming around to steady me as my eyes stayed trained on the door stubbornly. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, holding me in place as he directed it to turn, the sound of the lock popping open.

"Bella …" He began, but I shook my head, stepping inside. Indy came barreling through from the living room, excitement glowing in her blue eyes, eager for the attention even though we had only been gone for no more than thirty minutes. I gave her a pat on the head and nothing more, walking right by her as her focus moved to Edward, who knelt down, giving her the devotion I should have.

I had been planning this day for weeks, starting from the moment Edward opened his eyes until the second we found our way to bed when the stars came out. Everything was meticulously thought out, prepared, and paid for. If only the weatherman hadn't lied to me.

I had everything planned out accordingly, dinner on the pier, in our own little section just outside of Edward's favorite restaurant we had frequented once we arrived in San Francisco. The restaurant was right at the edge of the shore, overlooking the bay, and after dinner was done, there was a small private spot down on the beach, where I had a glowing fire pit, a stereo, and a bottle of champagne. I was sure it was all ruined by now from the storm; it washing away all evidence of my hard work.

It was Edward's birthday, and even before I started planning, he had told me he didn't want anything special. I pretended to listen to him, even giving him a promise I wouldn't go out of my way. But how could I not? My pillar, he had held me up so many times, especially after Charlie. He endured my wrath and sadness and took it with a calmness that doused the fire within me. He put up with me when he shouldn't have, but he did it because he loved me so wholeheartedly. Just two months ago, at the anniversary of my father's death, he held me all night and didn't complain once, not even when he had to wake early to go to work. We weren't based on materialistic things, but I felt a day where I could show him not just with my words but my actions on how much he meant to me, he would know just how much I loved him.

When the rain started, it wasn't just a sprinkle. It was a torrential downfall, covering the city and dousing us within milliseconds. Even though I knew our after-dinner beach picnic was ruined, I still had a sliver of hope for dinner. That same hope was crushed when the restaurant informed us that because our table was reserved for outside and that they were filled to capacity inside, we would have to move our reservations to another day. My spirits were ruined, and anger replaced it, inducing a yelling match with the hostess until Edward pulled me away and back into the rain.

Damn it, we had even dressed up. I wore my long-sleeved navy-blue dress that Edward got me for Christmas while he matched with his navy skinny tie and a white button-up shirt with a jacket, both of which were soaked. On our way home, I caved with tears and told him what I had planned, and being the thoughtful boyfriend he was, he had thanked me profusely for the thought. He told me he was sure it would have been amazing and that even though he was disappointed that it was raining, he was still content with staying in the apartment with Indy and me.

I went to the wall, flipping the switch only to reveal that when the storm had become stronger, it had knocked out the electricity. I held in a groan, all hopes of redeeming the night suddenly squashed, my demeanor falling as my shoulders slumped. As I made my way back to the bedroom, Edward searched for a lighter to light candles, as Indy followed me.

Feeling a tightness in my throat, I forced myself not to cry, shaking my head to fight the tears. I knew I was being overly emotional, especially when Edward promised me it wasn't a big deal to him, but it was to me. I just wanted to give him something, give him the attention he deserved, to pamper him, and love him the way showed me. I unhooked my earrings, slamming them onto the top of my vanity, as Indy whined next to me, sensing my distress. I pulled my damp hair into a messy bun, several curls escaping and framing my face. Holding onto the vanity, I slipped out of my heels and began to unclasp the bracelets around my wrist and then finally the bird pendant that rested around my neck.

Indy continued to cry, the lack of attention I gave her becoming glaringly obvious. I let out a breath, kneeling to reach her as I scratched behind her ears, watching as her jaw slacked open, her tongue hanging out in happiness. She was the best present I could have ever received, even if she was now a behemoth. Wrapped up in giving my girl attention, I had almost missed the soft melody that began from the living room, wafting down the hall and into the bedroom. Confused, I perked my head, my eyebrows furrowing as I took a few steps towards the door, Indy right at my feet, stepping out and into the living room. The room was dusted with a warm glow from the candles as lightning sparked from the window, and at the coffee table in front of the couch was a phone playing the music.

But it was Edward who held my attention in the center of the room, his jacket off, his white sleeves rolled up to his elbows as his hands rested in his pockets.

"What are you doing?" My voice caught as my heart quickened just under my ribcage.

His lips tugged at the corner, forming a smile as he shrugged. "Come dance with me." He said, low and soft, his green eyes piercing me even with the darkened light. I felt torn, knowing that he was doing this because I was upset, but even in my disappointment, I didn't want this to be about me. My sometimes, over-the-top, and overly emotional personality was a downfall when it came to him because it tended to shadow his more relaxed nature. More often than not, he was the one bringing me back to Earth, even when he deserved the spotlight.

"Edward, you don't have to do this just to make me feel better." I felt the tightness in my throat again but swallowed it. "We can do whatever you want."

"I know you spent a lot of time trying to make sure this night was special," He began. "And what I want for my birthday is to make you happy. And if that means making myself look like a damn fool because I don't know how to dance, then so be it." He pulled his hand from his pocket, extending his arm to me. "Just come over here and let me hold you."

I brought my fingertips to my lips, hesitating while hiding the inevitable smile that formed. I wasn't sure if I would ever get used to his selflessness, his ability to take any situation and make it better, despite the circumstances. While I mulled over these thoughts, he was watching me with a certain intensity, a slow grin appearing on his lips. I stepped forward, sliding my fingers across his palm, allowing myself to be engulfed in his warmth. He wasted no time, tugging me to him, our chests pressing together. "I have no clue how to do this; you will have to lead me."

"It's okay." I laughed, gripping his arm and sliding it around my waist. "I'll teach you." His hand had kept moving downward, his palm covering my bottom as my eyes narrowed, directing him back.

"Sorry." He said, giving me a cheeky smile. I chewed on my bottom lip, shaking my head as I moved to grab his other hand, holding it in mine and wrapping my free arm around his neck. "I may step on your toes." He warned.

"Just follow my lead." I made it easy for him, staying in the same spot as our bodies swayed with the soft melody of the music, Indy finding a spot in her dog bed at the corner of the room. The pouring rain pelted against the rooftop, thunder rumbling the glass and giving it a soft beat as our bodies moved closer together. His skin was cast with a warm light that matched his heat, despite still being in his wet clothes. His copper hair was pushed back, as if he had run his fingers through it after being caught in the rainstorm, one auburn tendril falling just at his forehead. I realized that while I was studying him, he watched me, with the same rapt attention.

"What are you thinking about?" I whispered, my fingers skimming the back of his neck.

"A lot of things," He paused, pressing a curl behind my ear. "Mostly how this is the best birthday I've ever had."

I blew out a breath, trying not to roll my eyes. "You don't have to lie to make me feel better."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"I think you don't like to see me upset. You're always trying to fix me." My tone was even as I squeezed him as a silent thank you.

"Is that such a bad thing?" I could hear the smirk in his voice. "I'm not saying it because I think you need to hear it. I'm saying it because it's true." He stopped, leaning down to press his lips to my forehead. "Yeah, it may not have turned out how you wanted it, but that's life. No one has ever tried to celebrate me the way you have. That, itself, is a great gift, though the champagne would have been nice." He smirked as I tugged on his collar, warning him playfully.

"You deserve attention too." My voice was wistful, my grip tightening.

"I didn't realize you _weren't_ giving me attention." He smiled, amused as his tone grew lively. "You were giving me plenty last night. Are you holding back?"

"You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't, Bella."

"You have been …" I swallowed, hard, shaking my head. "You've been with me through everything. Sometimes I feel like I can be too much. I feel like I take up so much and leave nothing for you. You have put things aside to take care of me. I wanted to take care of you."

"Your father died just over a year ago." He stopped me, the words causing me to flinch. "I didn't expect you to get over that so soon. There is a grieving process, you know that."

"I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you," I said, feeling the tears fill. "I wanted you to know that I wouldn't have been able to get through any of this without you." When the first teardrop fell, he caught it quickly, cupping my cheeks.

"I promise you I know." He swore, his tone low. I felt his warmth, his love, and everything he gave me. This wasn't what I had planned – it was far from the course I wanted to go on, but standing there in the middle of the room with him, I realized that nothing could ever replace this moment. And I knew he felt it too, his strong arm wrapping tighter around my waist as his head dipped down, his lips placed between the crook of my neck. He inhaled deeply as I closed my eyes, inviting every inch of him closer.

The soft music began to fade, the room growing silent until we both jumped at the blasting of hard metal music, it even startling Indy to her feet, to which Edward quickly released me, grabbing his phone.

"Stupid fucking music station." He growled under his breath as I couldn't help but laugh, covering my mouth as Edward watched me with fascination, eventually joining me. He stepped to me, pulling me back into his embrace as my arms wrapped around his neck. We swayed for a few moments, one of my hands falling from his neck and to the front of his shirt, tugging on his tie.

"Happy birthday, Edward," I whispered as he watched me. For a moment, we stood together until he had broken the connection and leaned in and slowly pressed his lips against mine, leaving them there.

"Marry me, Bella." He asked against me, his arms tightening around my waist. I didn't move, my mind dissolving as I tried to replay his words, just to make sure I heard him correctly. I pulled back but only made it an inch away, his arm holding me in place so that I couldn't move far.

"Edward – _What_?" My words were breathy as if I had just run miles. He loosened his grip, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a black velvet box just as he began to sink to his knee. I gripped his shoulders, stopping him mid kneel as he smiled up at me, reaching for one hand, pulling it to him to kiss the inside of my wrist. The movement relaxed me as he sunk all the way down, watching me intensely.

"I had something else planned for another day. I thought about tying the ring around Indy's collar. But, life happens." He said simply with a smile and a shrug as my heart hammered in my chest. "I bought this months ago … been carrying it around for weeks. I think I always knew I wasn't going to follow a plan. I think I knew I would ask when the moment was right."

"But … Your birthday." It was all I could manage to get out.

"I don't think there would be any more of a perfect moment than this. You tell me you want to give me more because you feel it's always me taking care of you. But I don't think you realize how much you take care of me. Not just emotionally but physically. You are literally providing a roof over my head, so I can go to school, so I can provide later on. I'll admit, my manly pride takes a beating for it, but you never make me feel guilty." He paused, swallowing, as if the emotions were bubbling up, ready to spill over. "I've lived a very lonely life, Bella. My parents died, and I spiraled into alcoholism. I recovered, but I was still as empty as before. Except, I didn't even have alcohol to keep me company. It wasn't until I found you that I realized I was living a half-life. And you are so damn forgiving. I will never take that for granted, I swear it."

"Edward …"

"You don't need to give me special attention for insignificant things like my birthday. You don't need to go above and beyond because you think you don't do enough. Being here is enough. Being with me is enough. And I know this night wasn't what you expected, but I swear if you want to make it the best birthday ever, then you will let me put this ring on your damn finger." At that, he opened the black velvet box, revealing the iridescent moonstone gem, surrounded by tiny diamonds that sat on top of a thin silver band. I covered my mouth, the feelings escaping like a dam and overwhelming every inch of me, filling me to the brim with his love that was undeniable. "I fucking love you, Bella. I love what we've built, I love our small family. Spend the rest of your life with me. I swear I will always be here for you like I know you will be for me."

"Yes," I said immediately, not even having to think about it, choking on a happy laugh. "Yes, of course, yes!" His smile pierced me, tears streaming down my cheeks, clenching my chest as he slipped the ring on my finger. I dropped to his level, his arms enveloping me and keeping me steady until Indy made her way to us, nudging her nose in between with a whine until we allowed her to join.

We built this.

It was our small, happy, wonderful family.

 **November 2019**

"What are you still doing here?" Katherine asked from the doorway of her office just as I perked my head, typing in the last few sentences of my edit. I hesitated at her question; she knew I was always here later on Mondays, just from the workload the weekend provided. I met her blue gaze, her short, blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun as she watched me with a blank expression. Katherine was Siobhan's partner at S&K, the other half running the ship I was so grateful to be a part of. "And why are you still doing _that_?"

"What?"

"You have an assistant for a reason, Bella, so you don't have to sit here working extra hours. They get paid hourly, you don't." Her voice chided me, but I knew she meant well. When I moved to San Francisco, I hadn't been an editorial assistant for long. They bumped me up to a higher editorial position, where I wasn't the one slaving over the rough, first drafts. But, even I remembered what it was like to slum it at the bottom.

"It gets busy on Mondays. Lauren can only handle so much." I told her as she rolled her eyes. I didn't mind getting back into it when it was necessary. The busy work made me feel valued and accomplished, and I knew Lauren appreciated the help. God knows Katherine kept her on her toes just as much as Siobhan did when she was in the office. I didn't extract pleasure from making my assistant work to the bone. Instead, I jumped in when necessary.

"Well, either way, I'm glad you're here. Can you come to my office?" She asked as I nodded, sliding out of my chair and meeting her behind her door. She rounded her desk, gesturing to the spot in front of her as I settled, crossing my legs. "How is everything going?"

"Fine," I told her with a shrug, "We're cranking out more pieces than I anticipated, it's creating a bit more work, but I think you and Siobhan are going to be pleased."

"I have no doubt. But how are _you_? Are you enjoying your position?" Her tone was curious, a smile playing on her lips, and had it not been for that, I would have panicked. Siobhan was direct, I knew exactly what she was going to say. But Katherine was more reserved, feeling before jumping, sensing the room before giving an opinion.

"I am." It wasn't a lie. Granted, it was taking me longer to climb the ladder, especially with my experience, but I was grateful for this opportunity. I had no problem being in the trenches before making my way up … it was only fair.

"Are you?" She asked, giving me no time to respond. "You know, I wasn't sold on you at first, Bella. Siobhan raved about you, even after you turned down the job of Copy Editor." She said, the words stinging me. Siobhan, while more direct, was sympathetic as to why I left when my mother passed. Katherine, however, believed there was no other form of recovery except throwing yourself back into the ring. "Had it been me, I would have jumped at that opportunity no matter what. Especially getting the position right after college. But, both of my parents are still living, so I don't think I have much room to fault you making the decision you did." I knew Katherine wasn't being cruel, only honest. This small fact shielded me from her harsh words. "Where do you see yourself in five years, Bella? At this job? Do you see yourself as head Editorial Assistant, still doing edits despite not having to?"

"No," I answered. "I see myself writing, publishing my own work."

"And where is this work?"

"Still in here." I pointed to my temple, watching her scowl, but she made no attempt to breach the topic.

"What else do you see?"

"Being Copy Editor," I began. "I know where you stand on my departure, but I promise you it was the best thing for me. If I forced myself to take that job, I would of half-assed it. And Jane did great things."

"She did. _She is_."

"If you're asking me if I regret turning down the position, I'm going to have to say no. Even if that meant having to start at the bottom again. I don't expect things to be handed to me, and I know you can see from my work that I am dedicated. I have no problem paying my dues." I finished, settling back into the wicker chair. Katherine watched me with a smile, trying to hide it behind her pointer finger as she glanced down to the papers in front of her.

"Do you know that Laurent is leaving?" She asked as I blinked, shaking my head. "He was offered a Book Editor position at Hastings and Co. Honestly, I'm a little miffed he's going to our competitor, but it is what it is. However, it leaves the position of Copy Editor available, and I need to fill it quickly." I gulped noisily, my fingers wringing together in my lap. Again, she was watching me, gauging my reaction.

"Do you have any ideas of who you want?"

"Of course, I do." She waved me off as if it were a silly question. "Like I said, Bella, I wasn't sold on you even when you first came here. I wasn't sure how you would fit. You were quiet at first, only speaking when spoken to when all I wanted were ideas from you. I was ready to throw you out, until that day back in August, when you pitched that addiction column."

I nodded, remembering the day a story had landed in my email. It was an article from a woman who was battling addiction to both alcohol and opioids. She had come from a broken family, very similar to mine, one where her parents were both addicts, something that bled into her childhood. But unlike me, her mother never got out of it. Instead, they pulled her into the dark with them, passing on their misery to her. And when they died, it was all she was left with. Her pain was written so meticulously, I felt like I was there, tasting every sip she took, coming off every high with her. It was gut-wrenching, painful, and opened wounds I had spent so much time closing.

That's why I knew it was the best thing I had read in years. My team was hesitant to help publish; the topic still very taboo. But that didn't stop me. I pushed and pushed, making my way to this very office, staking my claim as to why it was important to shed light on the subject. It was a cruel disease, one that many turned their noses away from, myself included. But the words the author wrote gave a perspective that not many people could see.

And when Katherine and the rest of the team put their trust in me, it didn't disappoint.

"That article was a hit. I mean, the damn New York Post picked up on it, and it was because of you, Bella." Her voice raised as she stood from her chair. "And that is why you shouldn't busy yourself with menial work like what you were doing out there. That is what Siobhan saw in you, even if at first, I didn't. And that is why I am offering you the Copy Editor position."

"What?" I breathed, feeling my stomach twist as if I didn't hear her right.

"It's yours, and I am not taking no for an answer. Not this time. You are exactly what we need." Her words were unbroken, her trust in me filling me to the brim as I let out an unsteady laugh before it burst into a full-on squeal. I rounded the desk as she lifted her hand to me, but I ignored it, pulling her into a hug even if she was as stiff as a board. "Okay, okay. You know I'm not mushy like my partner."

"I'm sorry." I breathed, pulling away as I felt my cheeks burn.

"It's fine. Congratulations, Bella, it is well deserved. But I expect you to harden up. You'll have many direct reports, and I don't want you doing their work for them. Don't let your generosity stifle you." She warned, but I shook my head, knowing it actually did quite the opposite. When I left her office, she all but pushed me out the door, telling me not to waste another second here and to go off and celebrate, to take even the next day off if I was too hungover.

High on happiness, I called Edward immediately to gush about the news. His pride swelled inside of me, bringing tears to my eyes as he promised to use tonight as a celebration to praise his girl. I would have never imagined that my broken past would have somehow brought me to a full-circle moment. As troubled as my childhood was, I silently thanked it for bringing me clarity all these years later and using it in my favor.

 **December 2019**

"All right, let me see it!" Alice demanded as we released from our hug just at the entrance of St. Ignatius Church. I reached my left hand forward, allowing both Alice and Esme to look at my engagement ring, the two swooning over it as my chest swelled with happiness. "It's perfect! He really nailed it, even without my help. You know I offered to fly down."

"That's probably because you would have made him buy a two-carat diamond ring," Jasper interjected from her side as she cut her eyes at him. "And you know that's not Bella's style." He was right, it wasn't my style. The ring was simple and minimalist. The main attraction wasn't even a diamond. It was exactly me, which is why I loved Edward even more for knowing what I would like.

"Bella, I am so happy for you two," Esme cried, the first of many tears as she enveloped me in a hug, kissing the side of my head.

"We should probably find our seats; the ceremony will be starting soon," Carlisle said, leading us to the open doors of the church. We walked together into the main area, where Edward's graduation ceremony was being held. The room was beautiful, coating in cream colors with pillars on either side of the benches. The front of the room was on a stage where a banner of the school colors hung, announcing the ceremony.

As we found our seats, I thought back to this morning, watching Edward from the bed as he dressed in a white button-up with a skinny, navy tie. He tried to tame his hair, even after I had warned him multiple times in the last week that he needed a trim. He kept it tousled, and he was still the most handsome man I had ever seen. He caught me staring from the mirror, cautioning me to stop looking at him like that, or he would be late to his own graduation. I teased him, slipping the sheet halfway off my naked body, reminding him of our activities from the night before. He only halfway conceded, not wanting to deal with taking his clothes off, but pulled me to edge of the bed where he kneeled and lavished me to the point of multiple orgasms just with his tongue and fingers. He whispered a promise to expect more later when we returned home and left with his graduation cap and gown.

The original plan was for Carlisle, Esme, Alice, and Jasper to stop by our apartment and pick me up so we could travel together. But, shortly after Edward left, I made myself a small breakfast of eggs and toast, only to stop mid-bite, dropping the contents from my mouth as if it were on fire. I could feel my stomach turning, the few bites I had swallowed betraying me to the point that I flew off the couch and ended on the floor of the bathroom, heaving into the toilet. When there was nothing left in my stomach, I stayed on the linoleum floor, allowing it to cool my skin as Indy slipped down next to me, licking my cheek.

I had texted Alice and told them I would meet them there, sparing the details as to why I was changing the plans. After a hot shower and a thorough scrub of my teeth, I got dressed in a yellow sundress with tan strapped heels, as it was unusually warm in San Francisco for December. I said goodbye to Indy and took the cable car down to the church, where I met them just at the front.

Alice had bumped me with her shoulder, pulling me from my trance. I looked at my friend and smiled. "When do you think the wedding will be?" She asked.

"We haven't really talked about it. Maybe next year?" I shrugged. "Right now, we're just enjoying being engaged."

"If you plan for next year, make sure you don't do it in the springtime. Rosalie will kill you if you try to outshine her and Emmett's wedding." Alice warned with a smirk as I nodded in understanding, knowing not to cross Rosalie and her big day. We hadn't spoken much, except during Thanksgiving last year, when Edward and I returned to Forks. Emmett had already proposed, and their plan was to get married this past summer. It didn't happen when Rosalie became pregnant, which was why they were not in attendance today as they gave birth just three weeks ago.

"How are they and the baby?" I asked, an absentminded thought itching at the back of my mind when I remembered my odd and sudden sickness this morning.

"They are so good. Emmett is a great father, and Rosalie has even softened a bit," Alice paused, looking at me as I arched an eyebrow. "Soft for Rosalie is still as hard as stone, but motherhood definitely agrees with her."

I hadn't noticed that my palm was resting on my stomach, and when I did, I quickly moved it from my belly to my lap. Yes, the sickness this morning was odd, but I was on the pill. I tried to rationalize with myself, not jump to conclusions, but I couldn't help a sudden feeling of fear pass through me. I had been feeling more tired than normal, and my appetite seemed to increase, up until this morning.

What if I was pregnant? What if I was one of those women who, through a freak accident, was able to conceive while on birth control?

I felt my heart begin to race, a side effect of the anxiety that built up inside of me. Edward and I haven't talked about children, we were barely even engaged. And even if we had, I didn't know if it was something _I_ wanted. The fear of my own childhood ran rampant in my mind. The parent figures I had, while I loved them, were not the best role models. What if I didn't know how to parent because of that? What if I failed my own child?

"I can't wait for you guys to meet Ben when you come home for Christmas." Alice interrupted my apprehension, and I tried to steady myself. "He's the cutest little thing, I about jump Jasper anytime we get home after seeing him. Talk about baby fever."

I forced a laugh, swallowing the lump in my throat as I scolded myself for becoming overwhelmed at something I didn't even know was true. Luckily, before Alice could see my change in mood, the lights had dimmed, and music began to play as graduates walked out from the doors behind. I scanned the black robes, desperately trying to find Edward, knowing that just one look would calm me. I was not disappointed. I caught his crimson hair sneaking out of his black cap as I begged him silently to look at me. As if he knew, he was searching too, finding me within seconds and giving me his signature smile, the same that made my heart quicken every time.

I loved him so much, I ached. But it was a good ache. It replaced the fear that grew inside of me. And when he passed, finding his seat with the rest of the graduates, it was enough to hold me over until I could have him in my arms.

We sat for a while, listening to speeches and congratulations until they began to call out names. I could feel the emotions bubbling inside of me, and when they called Edward, I immediately stood and clapped, ignoring the flood of tears that left me. He walked across the stage, shaking the dean's hand and receiving his diploma. He found me again in the crowd and winked as I mouthed the words, _I love you_.

After the ceremony, we found Edward outside where the rest of the graduates were with their families. Carlisle and Esme got to him first. Esme had already been crying, but it was Carlisle who surprised us all. They were whispering to each other until Carlisle brought him in for a hug. When Alice was next, I watched as Carlisle turned to Esme, who reached up and wiped at his tears.

Even though he hid it well, Edward seemed frustrated that he hadn't gotten to me yet, but when we found each other, I could feel him immediately relax as he lifted me in his arms, squeezing me tightly. I was crying again, sniffling as he sat me down.

"I'm so proud of you," I told him, holding his cheeks in my hands. "I love you so much."

"I would not have been able to do this without you," His tone was hard and unmoving, the seriousness of it sending more tears to my eyes. "Thank you for supporting me. And please don't cry." He smiled, wiping them away.

"They are happy tears," I promised as we kissed chastely before turning back to his family, which I realized would soon be mine.

xx

As Christmas neared, Edward and I started our travels back to Forks to spend the holiday with his family. We hired a sitter to stay with Indy while we were gone, even though I tried to convince Edward to drive instead of fly so we could bring her with us. After a failed attempt to change our plans, we arrived in the evening to Carlisle and Esme, who treated us to a home-cooked meal as they probed Edward about his new position from intern to Certified Social Worker. His boss was eager to promote him, only waiting until he graduated and then immediately put him in the field, having him focus on at-risk youths.

"I haven't really jumped into it yet, I've got a few things I'm working on, nothing hugely important, just clerical things." He told Carlisle, who asked about his cases. He downplayed his hard work, chalking up his successes to everyone else rather than himself. I knew he was grateful for his support systems for me, but he never took a moment to be selfishly prideful, even though he deserved it. He had put in time and effort, hours getting unpaid and even more in a classroom.

"He's getting his first case when he gets back," I interrupted, looking to Carlisle and Esme. "And it's not just some _clerical_ thing, it's an actual case involving two siblings, both under the age of ten, who were left behind by their parents."

"That's just heartbreaking." Esme stirred, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. "How could a parent do that?"

"I don't dabble a lot in social work, but I know more than normal from being at the hospital. People leave their kids there all the time if you can believe it. I don't see it much in Forks, but I did when I completed my residency in Seattle." Carlisle paused, looking to Edward. "I also know that, from the sounds of it, it's a big case. And for you to get that as your first, they must believe in you." Carlisle's tone was glowing. I watched their small exchange, feeling myself warm over their bond. Carlisle clearly viewed Edward more than just his nephew, but as his son, and Edward thought of Carlisle as a father more than his own.

"Bella, are you sure you don't want any wine?" Esme asked as she tipped a bottle of Merlot into her glass. Quickly, I shook my head, drumming out a response, blaming my fatigue from the flight. No one seemed to question me, but I did catch a quick look from Carlisle, one that made me fidget in my chair. Quickly, I excused myself, and calmly walked to the bathroom, locking myself in as I rested my back against the door.

While there was still no test to confirm, I _knew_ I was pregnant.

I felt the physical changes in my body, the tiredness, the soreness in my breasts, the constant morning sickness that didn't seem to leave me alone, no matter what I tried. And it wasn't just in the morning. If I even caught a whiff of meat, it would send me running to the bathroom. I was thankful when Esme cooked pasta with pesto, but even that seemed to twist my stomach. I was taking naps whenever I could and sleeping in on the weekends until the afternoon, even when Edward questioned me. Just last week he had caught me jumping from the bed mid-nap and darting to the bathroom as I disposed of the macaroni salad I had eaten earlier. I blamed it on bad takeout and hid my secret from him.

I wasn't trying to keep him out, but I hadn't found the courage to take a test, and I didn't want to add to his stress, not after he had just graduated and started his position. I compromised with myself, waiting until my period, which was scheduled the second to last week of December, which had come and gone.

Despite our openness, I found it difficult to approach this subject with him, unsure of his reaction. Would he be happy? Scared? Angry? We both had addiction running through our veins, from himself to my parents – what would we pass on to our child? Anytime I went to say something, the thoughts barged in, halting me. I found it on the tip of my tongue on more than one occasion, before we left as we sat on the couch watching TV with Indy, on the plane, even the three-hour drive from Seattle to Forks. But each time I was stopped by my own insecurities and fear.

Pulling myself from the door, I stood in front of the mirror that hung above the sink. I stared, my head tilting as my palm rested just as the top of my abdominals, under my breasts. I bunched my shirt in my fingers, tugging it to expose my navel and pale skin. I turned to the side, my free hand skimming, touching the smoothness of my belly, completely flat. I swallowed, imagining what it would be like with a budding stomach, trying to imagine the shape of it. I was holding back tears, blinking them away, overwhelmed by a secret I wasn't even sure was true. I dropped my shirt, cupping water from the faucet in my palms before drenching the back of my neck that had spiked with heat. After allowing myself a few minutes to breathe, I snuck my way out of the bathroom, finding the dining room empty, voices carrying from the foyer.

"Look at this graduate!" Emmett roared, pulling Edward into a hug as I entered the room. "Congratulations, brother. Glad you finally let go of that bar."

"I still own it, Emmett," Edward growled, moving his arm away. "I just have Riley running it."

"Whatever, at least you are out of it. Bella!" Emmett moved in my direction, scooping me in his arms like it was nothing and twirling me in a circle. He wasn't rough, but I felt my stomach churn as I bit back the need to vomit, making no attempt to stop him, trying my best to stay as normal as possible.

"Jesus, Emmett, put her down!" Edward growled as Emmett dropped me, placing a fat kiss to my cheek as my hand settled on my stomach, urging it to relax.

"I see fatherhood has not calmed you," I joked, forcing a smile as I focused on his big, hazel eyes and distracting myself from the dizziness that warped my vision. Emmett had moved just as Rosalie entered behind him, a baby carrier in her hand as she glanced between the two of us.

"Hell no, I'm running consistently on two hours of sleep and Red Bulls. I've got all the energy in the world." He smirked, bumping his chest with his fist as Esme and Carlisle made their way directly towards the baby.

"Enough already, I want to see my grandson!" Esme cooed, moving to Rosalie and placing a kiss on her cheek before unbuckling the newborn and pulling him into her arms. I was astonished at first, never really being around babies enough to even understand how small they really were when they are born. Baby Ben curled up in his grandmother's arms as she took him to the living room and sat down on the chair, rocking him back and forth. Instinctively, I followed her, feeling my heart melt at the sight of him. He was fast asleep, his features soft as he was swaddled in a green blanket, oblivious to what was going on outside of his dreams. He had little to no hair, but his nose was almost a replica of Emmett's, his hands covered in mittens just before Esme plucked them, his tiny fingers curling. I was entranced by him, watching every movement he made from over Esme's shoulder.

"You want one?" A voice asked behind me, and I turned to see Rosalie. I was unprepared for her question, nervous that somehow, she saw through me and knew I was pregnant. But, her features were light, and I wondered if this was the softness that Alice had been referring to. "You can take him whenever you want. I'm lacking on my beauty rest."

I laughed, looking back down to the baby. "He is beautiful."

"I know. He's half of me." She smiled, reaching down to stroke the top of his head. When she turned her attention back to me, she tilted her head to the side, indicating for me to follow her. Rosalie escorted me away from the baby as the rest of the family doted over him. We walked into the kitchen together where she poured herself a glass of water. It felt strange, being alone with her, the last time that happened was in this very kitchen when I confronted her on how she was treating Edward. "Listen, I know you and I aren't exactly the closest. Having Ben has changed me, and I look back at how I've treated people, including you and Edward. He will be my family soon, which means you will be too. So, any bad blood, let's get it out now."

I was shocked by her speech but felt a sense in relief of her wanting to clear the air, even though there was almost nothing to clear. "Rosalie, there is no bad blood between you and me. If there was, it was because I was trying to protect Edward."

"I plan on having a conversation with him while we're here. I blamed him a lot for Tanya, but she is finally doing better, with the help of him. I'm letting that go. I can't hold on to it anymore, not when there are more important things to be spending my time with." She finished.

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that. You know he never meant for it to get as bad as it did."

"I know."

"I'm glad to hear she is doing better. Do you still keep in touch?" I asked.

"Only occasionally through email. She lives upstate, enrolled in some college courses, and is actually dating someone." She told me as I smiled, knowing that Edward had a part in her recovery. He helped her, even if she didn't deserve it, but did it out of the kindness of his heart because that's who he was.

 _He will make a great father_.

The thought warmed me, and I was lost in my mind until Rosalie brought me back down to reality.

"How are you doing?" She asked, and I knew she was indicating to Charlie. We hadn't spoken much about it, the topic too personal for her to engage in.

"I'm okay. The first year was rough, but since getting past the anniversary, it's easier."

"It was the same with my father and me, you know. Not the circumstances, but the healing. He died from lung disease a few years ago. We weren't close, but it was still hard. So, I share your pain." She finished, empathizing with me. I nodded just as she finished her glass of water, our sentimental conversation ending immediately. "I hope we can be friends, Bella."

"We are," I told her, seeing her visibly relax. We didn't hug or cry, it wasn't necessary. Instead, we wrapped up our conversation, talking about the baby until she realized the time, telling me she had to feed him. She led the way out, back into the living room, me right behind her. I halted at the sight in front of me, seeing Edward on the couch with Ben in his arms. I had never seen him interact with children, let alone a newborn, but Ben was wide awake, staring up at his uncle in amazement. I felt my heart stutter, seeing Edward's smile as he whispered to his nephew, emitting a toothless grin from him.

"He hasn't even done that for me!" Emmett groaned as Carlisle and laughed behind them. "What the hell, _I'm_ his father."

"What can I say? Kids love me." Edward shrugged, looking back to his nephew, who cooed at him.

Suddenly, the words were at the tip of my tongue again. I had to swallow them quickly, in fear of blurting them out in front of everyone. But seeing Edward with Ben had doused my anxiety, cast my fear away, and made me realize that if I was pregnant, we would be okay. Edward would be happy, and he would support me. He would love our child so much, and they would never know what it was like to be alone or forgotten. I gripped my stomach, rubbing it, hoping that there was, in fact, a little baby in there.

Later that night, Edward and I prepared for bed in the guest room as I slipped into a tank top and shorts, Edward in just his plaid pajama pants. He was working on a few emails from his laptop, immersed in his work the night before Christmas Eve, as I lay on my side, looking up to him.

"Rosalie apologized to me today," I said, watching as he looked down at me.

"She caught me before they left." He responded. "I don't know if Ben changed things or if Emmett finally tamed her." He joked as I smirked, shrugging my shoulders.

"Probably a little of both. What did she say to you?"

"She told me she was sorry for how she treated me, and she didn't want to fight anymore."

"Did she mention Tanya?"

"She did." He said.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"I'm happy for her. Even though our relationship ended badly, I never wanted her to have the life she was living. She's finally doing better, which is what I wanted." He told me, looking back down to his laptop.

"It wouldn't have been possible without you," I told him honestly.

"That's not true," He shook his head, directing his attention back to me. "Had you not been there that morning she showed up with James, I would have thrown them out. Do you remember what you told me? You told me to listen to her. You are the one who encouraged me to help. If it weren't for you, she might still be in the streets of Seattle, or worse."

"I think you would have done it even if I wasn't there," I argued.

Edward laughed, closing his laptop and setting it to his bedside table. He turned in my direction, his fingers running along my cheek as he smiled, pressing his lips to the tip of my nose. "I appreciate your faith in me, but I don't think I would have. I was hell-bent on keeping her out of my life, especially with you in it. I thought she would try and ruin everything for me. And when she showed up with James, it was even worse. You saved her, Bella. Not me."

"Agree to disagree," I smiled, reaching forward to press my lips to the corner of his. "I don't think I've ever seen you with a baby before," I whispered, moving a strand of crimson from his face.

"I'm not around them often." He replied.

"I think Ben took a liking to you."

"Babies usually do. I don't know why."

"It's got to be your natural charisma." I joked just as he leaned in, kissing me. "I liked the way it looked."

"Yeah?" He asked as I nodded. He reached for me, gripping my hips and pulling me forward and onto his lap, my knees on either side of him. He sat up, pressing his lips to my jawline, adoring every inch of it as my stomach flipped with anticipation. He grabbed my left arm, starting at my inner elbow and kissing down to my palm and then my finger, just underneath my engagement ring. I knew his intent could feel his arousal through my flimsy pajama shorts, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. He was wrapping me up, but I couldn't allow him to consume me, not when I needed to tell him something so important.

"Do you want kids?" I asked hesitantly, feeling his kissing stop. He pulled away and looked at me as if he were confused by my question. "Babies?" I clarified out of nerves, even though I knew he understood what I was asking.

"With you? Absolutely." He breathed, warming my insides. He moved back towards me, pressing his lips to mine. "When the time is right, I can see us chasing tiny versions of ourselves around the house with Indy." He smiled into my lips, and I couldn't help but reflect it.

"And our pasts don't scare you?" I questioned, to which he pulled back away. "Our parents? Addiction?"

"Are you scared about that?" He asked as I stayed silent, feeling my throat tighten as I swallowed.

"We didn't have the best role models, and addiction can be genetic," I said, biting my lower lip. Edward caught it with his thumb, reaching forward to place a gentle kiss to me.

"Yes, some odds are stacked against us. But I don't think they will be issues. Both of our parents had problems, but we can overcome those. I am in recovery and have been for years. And when we do decide to have children, we can use the mistakes of our pasts as lessons." His voice was even and calm, once again relaxing me and my worries. He cupped my cheek, his lips dragging from my own back down to my jawline and then soon my neck. "Let's not worry about this now. But we _can_ do some practicing." He said suggestively, his hands dropping to my hips, grinding into him as I let out a soft moan.

Our lips found each other again, my hands reaching for his hair as my fingers ran through them, tangling between crimson locks as he pulled the straps of my tank top down, cupping my breast that was sensitive to the touch.

"I don't think we have to practice." I breathed against him.

"What do you mean?" He asked, hovering his lips over mine.

"I think I'm pregnant." My voice was hesitant, my body stilling at his reaction. All motions stopped, his hand pausing at my breast as his lips went stiff against mine. Slowly, he pulled back, looking at me intently as if he were trying to comprehend the words I had just said.

" _What?_ " He asked through a breath.

Anxiety strangled me, the look of fear in his eyes, making me nauseous as I tried to formulate my response, my tongue stuck until it fumbled out quickly. "I think I'm pregnant. I don't know for sure, but I've been having a lot of morning sickness, I'm tired all the time, my breasts are sore, and I missed my period."

"How long has this been going on?" He asked after a long pause.

"Since your graduation." My voice was quiet, watching him.

"And you are just _now_ telling me?"

"I didn't know for sure. I wanted to wait to see if I missed my period." I said as he moved me from his lap, his facial expression unreadable. Silence overcame the room as I sat back on my knees, watching him stare blankly at the wall in front of us. I could hear my own heart beating, my lips trembling as I went to say something but the moment I did, he stood, grabbing a pair of pants and a shirt from our suitcase. I felt like I was going to hurl, right over the side of the bed, the anxiety strangling me as I begged him with my eyes to say something. To say anything.

"What are you doing?" I asked when the silence was too much, biting my thumbnail.

"I'm going to the store to get you a pregnancy test."

"Right now?"

"Right now."

"Are you angry?" I asked as he headed for the door. He stopped and looked back to me, taking several strides in my direction until he landed his hands onto my cheeks, pulling me in for a kiss. He was passionate, pouring every ounce of love he could as he held the back of my head, helping tilt it up to give him more access. When he pulled away, he spared me a smile, kissing my forehead.

"Absolutely not. But we need to know for sure."

With that, Edward left.

I felt significantly better, his declaration calming me, but I was still on edge, the unknown making me worried. I waited for his return in the bedroom, and thirty minutes later, he appeared with a paper bag in his hand. He ushered me to the joining bathroom, unveiling the three different tests he bought. I rolled my eyes at him, but he only shrugged, telling me he wanted to make sure it's accurate. When all three tests were completed, we waited the agonizing two minutes together in each other's arms. We stayed silent through the longest one hundred and twenty seconds, clutching onto each other as if communicating without words. He stroked my hair, kissing the top of my head to indicate that the minutes had passed. I moved from him, looking down at the counter near the sink to read two tests with two pink lines and the other with the word _pregnant_.

I turned back to him, my eyes welling with tears as I slowly nodded my head.

He was frozen at first until he moved to check for himself, reading all three before looking down at me, suddenly pulling me into his arms. He kissed me wildly, and when we pulled away, I could see his own tears. Tears of happiness.

We were going to have a baby.

 **January 2020**

EPOV

I sat on the opposite side of the room in the doctor's office, watching as Bella began to strip, grabbing the paper dress and placing it over herself, it swallowing her still slim figure. She came to me, turning and asking for me to tie it. I stood up, grabbing the strings and tying both sets before placing a kiss to the back of her shoulder. She whizzed around, her eyes heated but holding warning.

"Not here." She said simply.

"What?" I couldn't help my impish smirk, knowing full well what I was doing. I couldn't help it. Had anyone asked me a year ago if I thought I would be sitting in a doctor's office, waiting for the ultrasound of my first child, I would have laughed at them. But here I was, with her. With the love of my life, my fiancée, the mother of my child. I was in awe of her, and now that she was carrying my baby, I couldn't seem to get enough. Perhaps I was being a Neanderthal, my instincts to protect and claim, but, I knew it was much more than that.

"Are you nervous?" She asked from the plush table she sat on, watching me wander in my thoughts.

"Are you?" I asked as she nodded. I stood again, moving to her and grabbing her hand. "What are you nervous about?"

"What if it was a false positive?" She asked hesitantly.

"Bella, you took three tests," I said with a laugh as she nodded, still unconvinced. I reached over and kissed her temple, running my fingers through her long, wavy, chestnut hair. For a moment, a pictured a little girl with the same hair and big brown eyes, a small replica of the woman I loved. My chest swelled, but I focused my attention back on her as she tapped her thumb along the side of the bed, my hand reaching down to silence her. With my free hand, I reached up, rubbing her back to ease her. "If all three were false positives, even despite your symptoms, then we can talk about the next steps. If we want to wait or if we want to start trying."

Bella looked at me with her deep eyes, worry still lining around them. She was always outspoken and confident; those were some of the reasons I fell in love with her. But it seemed that motherhood, at least the beginning of this pregnancy, rattled her. She mentioned her hesitation of her past and mine. She was worried about addiction being genetically passed to our child and her ability to care for one because of how she grew up. She had no faith in herself, but I was determined to have it for the both of us, to lift her up and instill the confidence I knew was there.

A knock on the door cut our conversation short, and an older woman with dark hair and a white coat walked in. "Hi there, Bella."

"Hi Dr. Carmen, this is my fiancée, Edward," Bella said as Dr. Carmen and I both reached our hands out, shaking.

"Nice to meet you, Edward." She said with a smile as I nodded in agreeance. Standing next to Bella with my hand in hers, Dr. Carmen found the rolling stool and sat across from us. "Well, Bella, based off the urine sample you gave, you are most definitely pregnant." I could feel Bella visibly relax, her head turning to look at me with a watery smile. I reached down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, feeling relief myself. "And based on the information you have given me and when your last menstrual cycle was, I would place you at about six to seven weeks."

"Really?" I interrupted. "That far along?"

"In the grand scheme of things, that's really not that far. So, it is perfectly normal that you just started showing symptoms. What I'd like to do today is get an ultrasound done, see if we can see a heartbeat. It may still be a little too early, but we could get lucky." She smiled, standing from her seat. "Congratulations to you both, I'm going to go grab the gear, and I'll be back."

"Thank you, Dr. Carmen," Bella said, looking to me just before I enveloped her in my arms, kissing the top of her head. "I can't believe it." She cried, clutching onto my shirt.

I pulled her away, wiping at her tears. "Are you happy?" I asked. She nodded quickly, her smile warm. I felt it inside of me, in my fucking soul, and I couldn't help but reach down and kiss her again.

"So happy. I didn't expect this, but now that it's happening, I'm so excited to do this with you." She whispered, more tears in her eyes.

"I love you." I looked at her as if she was the only one in the world, and to me, she was. She and our baby that she was carrying. I would do anything for both of them, love them, protect them, empower them. I would be lying if I didn't say the thought of being a father scared the shit out of me, but now that it was here, I never wanted to let the feeling go.

"I love you." She whispered back against my lips. We waited for a few more minutes until the technicians, and the doctor came back, prompting Bella to lie down as the lights went off.

"What we will be doing today is a transvaginal ultrasound. Because you are at six-seven weeks, this is the clearest way for us to get a picture of your baby," Dr. Carmen said, going through and showing us what she would be doing. They placed a towel over her bottom half just as her feet went into the stirrups. Dr. Carmen warned Bella that she was getting ready to place the probe, but Bella didn't even flinch; unlike me, her eyes too busy scanning the monitor next to us. A black and white picture came to life, the room silent for several minutes as I tried to decipher the Rorschach inkblot inside of Bella's uterus.

"Okay, do you see this?" Dr. Carmen pointed to a light circle on the screen. "This is the gestation sac inside of your uterus, and your baby is just a tiny embryo in there. And that," She stopped, pointing to a smaller circle, moving in rhythm like a beating drum. "… Is your baby's heart."

"It is?" Bella's voice cracked as Dr. Carmen nodded. She laid her head back down, her smile bright as I continued to watch the heartbeat, over and over again, my own seeming to time with it. That was my baby. _Our_ baby.

The last few days had been a whirlwind, from the moment she told me she thought she was pregnant, to sitting here and seeing it live on the monitor. Now that it was real, everything slowed. I was going to be a father. I felt my chest warm, my eyes misting as I brought her hand back up to my lips, pressing and holding them to her knuckles, just above her engagement ring.

"Based off this ultrasound, your baby has a strong heartbeat. I would say you are at seven weeks, which would place your due date mid-August. Specifically, August 16th. I'm going to go print this, and give you two a moment alone." Dr. Carmen smiled again, leaving the room with her technicians. This time, it was me who was crying, and I quickly wiped at my tears, feeling her hands on my cheek.

"We are going to be parents." Her voice was above a whisper, but I could hear her excitement. We didn't stop the tears, our foreheads resting together as we savored the moment.

 **March 2020**

I woke with a moan, my eyes blurry as they adjusted to the dark, my breathing labored as if I were in pain. But it was quite the opposite. I felt hot, fanning myself with my hand as I tried to recover from my dream. I had been showering in our old apartment, rinsing the conditioner out of my hair as I lathered up soap in my hands. I was startled by the shower door opening, revealing a very naked Edward. The dream had quickly turned into my very own fantasy as he jumped in with me, touching and tasting me before he took me against the shower wall, the steam mixing with our rising temperatures causing me to wake just before I reached my tipping point.

This wasn't an abnormal occurrence. Not since my pregnancy. Dr. Carmen had told me that my hormones would be up and down and usually more in the mood than normal. And she wasn't wrong. I couldn't seem to keep my hands off Edward, demanding sex the moment he walked in the door from work or coaxing him back to the house during our lunch hour. I was a fiend, wanting him every second I could, and he seemed to comply happily.

This dream did nothing to douse my arousal, and I turned, naked, to only find an empty and cold bed. I was disappointed, clutching at the sheets as I stood, holding my budding stomach as I crossed the room, grabbing my silk robe from the closet door.

My movements had woken Indigo, who had been sleeping soundly in her corner. She went to rise, but I met her by her bed, calming her by scratching behind her ears. My girl was no longer a puppy, nearly eighty pounds and more protective than Edward and I ever thought she would be. I knew she could sense my pregnancy, it was evident by the way she stayed close to me, following me wherever I went. I knew she loved the both of us, but before my pregnancy, she was partial to Edward. Maybe it was their runs together, or that he was home more frequently now that he was out of school, but they were attached at the hip. Everything changed when I became pregnant. She was my shadow, attentive and gentle, resting her head on my stomach whenever she could as she watched me with her blue eyes. My protector, my first baby.

"Stay," I told her as I stood and made my way to the door, despite her whines. When I left the bedroom, I walked down the hallway, stopping just short of Edward's office. Secretly, I was envious of this room. It seemed to occupy his time, leaving less for me. We had finally moved out of our one-bedroom apartment and bought a house still within the city, but in a better area with a highly rated school district. That was important to Edward, who did his research before we purchased. With the new house came three new rooms in addition to ours. One for our baby, another for guests, and one last one as an office for him.

I should have been happy; he finally had a place to do his work instead of in our bed. He occasionally worked from home, driving me to my office as he no longer wanted me to use public transportation. _There is no need, we have a car, and I'd prefer it if I took you_. A once carefree Edward had now become overprotective since we found out our pregnancy. It was endearing, really. Sometimes overbearing, but his heart was in the right place.

I heard him on the phone, speaking to his boss as they talked logistics of a case they were working on involving several teenagers in a foster home. Quietly, I opened the door, sticking my head through as I watched him type on his computer, his head leaning to hold his cell phone between his ear and shoulder. He didn't notice me, not until I pushed the door open with my fingertips, it creaking to life and widening just as his head snapped up and he mouthed _on the phone_.

I rolled my eyes at him and walked in, admiring the new decorations in his office. He had placed several bookcases around the room, stacked from top to bottom. Little trinkets and pictures of us framed his modern desk. I was just at his left side, waiting patiently as he continued to look between his screen and me.

"I can get the paperwork to you tonight, if you can sign, then we can go forward to the foster …" He paused as my finger plucked the tie around my waist, unfurling to cascade the robe open, revealing my naked body. His eyes were heated as he lost his words, his boss repeatedly saying his name until Edward snapped back, flustered. "That … We can go f-forward to the foster and investigate … _Shit_ …"

Edward hissed as I moved in front of him, straddling his waist. A part of me felt bad for interrupting his work, but the bigger part of me felt empowered, satisfied that I could render him speechless. I grabbed his hand, bringing it up to grab my breast, my palm resting against the back of his hand as I encouraged him to squeeze. "John, listen, I have to go … I know, I'm sorry … I'll call you back in fifteen minutes," He said as I raised a brow, my eyes blazing. "Give me an hour."

I smiled as he hung up the phone, immediately going to my neck, lavishing it with hot, open-mouth kisses. I squealed my delight, panting as my hand gripped the back of his neck, encouraging him to move lower.

"Are you trying to get me fired?" He whispered against my skin just before reaching the mounds of my breasts, his hand pulling my right one up before his lips found my nipple, cherishing it with his tongue. My mouth slacked open as I moved against his groin, feeling his arousal.

"If it gets you to bed earlier," I said, coaxing his head to tilt up so we could share a kiss. "I woke up from a very hot dream, and you weren't there."

"I'm sorry, this case is huge. And also – how hot?"

"It was in the shower," I breathed against his lips. "Do you remember that time? When we were in Forks?" It was the only time we had shower sex. He wouldn't even entertain the idea now that I was pregnant, telling me that too many accidents can happen, and he wasn't going to risk the baby. I was warmed by his protective nature, but also a little miffed at his hesitation.

"Yes," He growled. "You know where I stand on that." His hand came out, protectively cradling my stomach. I smiled against his jawline, nodding my head.

"I know. But, it was still a nice dream." I mused.

"I bet I could make you forget it," His voice was low, sending chills down my spine as I moaned my approval. Soon, he was removing my robe completely as I worked hastily at his clothes, unbuttoning his dress shirt and working quickly at his belt buckle. He picked me up, causing me to squeal as he sat me down on the cold surface of the desk. His body covered me, warmed me, and he wasted no time removing his boxer-briefs, leaning forward as his arm reached up, holding his desk for leverage.

"You've got me all worked up. I'm afraid this will be quick." He warned.

I panted, my body nearly convulsing as I nodded my head. "I need you. Right now." I demanded, watching his eyes flash as I felt him push, entering me. The moment he was inside, I felt whole. I choked out a groan, gripping his backside as he began to rock, the frame of us I had gifted him at Christmas two years ago falling from the movement as his pace quickened. He was kissing me, adoring my neck and down the slope to my collar bone, his breathing quickening.

Every motion was incredible, every push and pull like everything I ever wanted wrapped together. We moaned together, my climax coming quickly as my head rolled back, savoring the moment. It was exactly what I needed. But he wasn't done, and he picked me up again, carrying us to the accent chair in the corner of the room where he sat and I moved back into the straddling position. I was sensitive, but the way he looked at me enflamed me once again, and soon, I found myself controlling the pace as he lay back, enjoying, one hand on my breast and the other over my stomach. I kissed him with passion, telling him through my actions that I loved him, and he reciprocated. He gripped my hips, urging me to move faster, and soon, I was climbing to my second orgasm, tethering myself to him as he chased after me, growling my name into my shoulder.

We stayed connected, regulating our breathing on the chair as my head rested against his shoulder, feeling his fingers splayed across my back.

"Funny … I can't even remember my dream now," I giggled, feeling his chest move from laughter.

"Good. And I'm not done with you yet. We still have forty-five minutes until I have to call my boss back, and I plan to use those minutes wisely." He said in challenge, lifting me and carrying me to our bedroom.

xx

"Edward?" I whispered, in the darkened night, reaching over Indy, who had moved herself between us, sprawled across the bed as I touched his shoulder. He woke instantly, turning his body to me, his hand protectively reaching down to my stomach.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He was blinking sleep away, and for a moment, I felt guilty for waking him, but I just couldn't hold myself any longer.

"I'm so sorry I woke you … But I need something."

"What?"

"I need an M&M McFlurry," I said softly, biting my lip. He blinked a few more times, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms before looking to the clock on our bedside table. When he turned back to me, I scrunched my nose, knowing it was nearing three in the morning.

"You need one right now?" He asked.

"I don't think I can sleep without it. And none of the apps are delivering, I tried." Modern technology was a beautiful thing, but not so much in the middle of the night when the ravenous baby inside of me demanded food. At our movements, Indy had stirred, reaching her snout forward to kiss Edward right on his chin, as if to plead for me. "The McDonald's on Fillmore is twenty-four seven."

Edward pushed her away, scrubbing at his eyes. "We have ice cream in the fridge, will that not work?" He asked, his voice pleading as I shook my head, grabbing hold of our first baby and bringing her close to me.

"I can go myself, I just wanted you to know before I left. I'll even take Indy for the ride."

At the word _ride_ , Indy had jumped from her spot as she began to bark, tail wagging as she bounded forward to the end of the bed, jostling us. Edward gave me a glare as I bit down on my lip, knowing better than to use that word around a dog who loved nothing more than to sit in the backseat with her head stuck out of the window.

"Absolutely not." His tone turned serious as he grabbed Indy's collar, holding her still, willing her to relax. I sat back on my knees, stifling a laugh as he moved her in my direction, passing her to me. He stood from his side of the bed, naked from our earlier activities as he grabbed a pair of joggers and a plain white t-shirt, glancing back at us.

"Do you want us to go with you?" I asked, hopeful, as we both stared at him.

"No, I want you to stay right here, warm in bed." He whispered, kissing my forehead just before scrubbing his hand over the top of Indy's head as she barked, as if a final attempt to get him to change his mind.

"If it makes you feel any better, you did this to me." I challenged as he let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head before grabbing the keys from the top of the dresser. "I love you!" I yelled as he left the bedroom, shouting it back down the hall before leaving.

 **April 2020**

"God, I could use a McFlurry right now." I groaned from the top of the table, looking to Edward, who watched me with a glint in his eye.

"I think I should just purchase the machine and make them for you at home. You don't even need a cup; you can just stand under the nozzle. Indy will help you clean up." He joked as I stuck my tongue out at him, my fingers tapping along my larger stomach.

"It's not my fault _your_ baby wants ice cream all the time. Specifically, McFlurrys. I tried the Ben and Jerry's you got me, but it knows the difference. I threw up. Twice!" I argued, shuddering at the ice cream fiasco just last week.

"My little McFlurry Monster," Edward smiled, pressing his hand against my bare stomach. The moment, while short, caused my breath to hitch, my hand reaching his as we cradled our baby. A knock on the door distracted us, and Dr. Carmen came in with her technicians.

"Are you guys ready to find out what you are having?" She asked as we both nodded quickly. We weren't ones to want a surprise at birth or even a gender reveal party hosted by our family. We wanted the moment we found out the sex of our baby together, and we would tell our family later. Dr. Carmen lifted my gown, the lights dimming as she warned of a sudden coldness, the gel causing me to shiver. Edward reached down, pressing a kiss to the top of my head as I felt the probe at the bottom of my stomach, the screen next to us coming to life.

Once Dr. Carmen found the baby, I was able to define their silhouette immediately. I felt the tears spring to my eyes as I squeezed Edward's hand, the two of us watching the monitor and then Dr. Carmen.

"We are in luck; your baby is in perfect position." She smiled, moving the probe around just a little bit longer before settling and then pointing. "Looks like you are having a little girl."

 _A girl._

I was crying immediately, tears leaving my eyes as I looked to Edward, his own misting. We didn't care what it was, as long as our child was healthy. And now it was a she, and the reality began to sink in. I saw everything, a little girl with bows and dolls, a best friend for Indy as they ran through the house together. I saw her big green eyes and her bright smile, the very same one her father was showing off right now. Edward kissed me firmly, then sprinkled more across my face as he dried my tears. Dr. Carmen wiped off my stomach, congratulating us once more before giving us our privacy.

"My girls." He whispered against my forehead, reaching down to hold her. "She can have all the McFlurrys she wants."

I wiped at my tears, sniffling as I pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Does that mean we can stop on our way home?"

 **August 2020**

EPOV

There was something about today that just made it seem to drag … minute by minute. A part of me contemplated going home, taking Indy out for a run to clear my head. But it was only noon, yet in the three hours I've been in the office, I had already worked on multiple cases. Each of them had their own story; a thirteen-year-old abandoned by his mother, an eleven-year-old stuck in a home with addicts, and my current case, seventeen-year-old, flunking out of school and showing signs of alcoholism. His case hit home, several incidents taking me back to when I was in Seattle, dealing with my own issues with addiction. There had been moments I had to step away, even as far as telling my boss that the case needed to be moved to someone else because it was too raw for me. But I didn't give in, pushing past the points that hurt and understanding that my profession is to help. And I could help this kid.

I was in the middle of interviews with witnesses, the same ones who called social services, trying to pinpoint a trend with this kid, trying to find what I could use to get through to him. A vibration took me away from my interview and I gave the witness an apology. Looking to my phone to see Bella's name flashing across the screen, her ID picture of her in bed, her breasts covered, her very rounded stomach in full view as she smiled at me. I accepted the call, bringing my phone to my ear.

"Hi, baby," I whispered, immediately hearing her raggedy breath. "Bella?"

"My water just broke, Edward." The fear in her voice was evident, and to the surprise of the witness, I immediately stood as I began to grab my things.

"Where are you?" My voice was hard as I tried to remain calm.

"Alice is taking me to the hospital right now." She said through a cry. Silently, I thanked my cousin for coming to visit when she did. "I need you." Her voice was desperate.

"I'm on my way, I'll meet you there."

"Okay, I love you."

"I love you," I told her, just before hanging up. I apologized to the witness, telling them I had to reschedule because my fiancée had gone into labor. While they congratulated me, their tone had an edge to it, but I couldn't seem to care. My adrenaline was pumping as I shouted at my boss, telling him what's going on before I ran out the door and made my way to the hospital.

When I arrived, I didn't even have to hit the front desk before I heard my name being called. Alice was there, her smile big as she urged me in the direction where they took Bella. Alice stayed back when we got to her room and I walked in to see Bella, dressed back up in a gown, clutching her stomach. Her eyes lightened up when she saw me, tears pricking in mine as I went to her, cupping her cheeks and kissing her firmly.

"Are you okay?" I asked, and she nodded.

"We were out at lunch, I felt fine all day, maybe a little discomfort. Then in the parking lot … It just happened." She said, her lips forming a frown. "And we were about to go to McDonald's for a McFlurry."

I couldn't help but laugh, but it was soon replaced with concern when she gripped my hand, squeezing it tightly as her eyes shut. She was having a contraction, and I breathed with her, trying to help remind her of the exercises we learned together. I didn't know how much help I actually was, but I knew that my presence relaxed her, her hand staying in mine as each contraction hit her with force. I whispered words of encouragement, but she didn't seem to need it. My girl was being strong, taking each contraction in stride and I was so damn proud of her. When Dr. Carmen came in, she was surprised to see how far along Bella was. So far along that an epidural could not be done. She anticipated that Bella would be pushing within the hour.

The contractions were longer and closer together, and just as Dr. Carmen said, Bella was prepared to push.

"I need to … " She stopped, her voice catching in her throat. "I need to push."

"I'll go get Dr. Carmen," The nurse left as Bella laid back, sweat on her brow that I removed with the sleeve of my green scrubs, reaching down to kiss her.

"You got this, baby," I told her, squeezing her hand.

"I want Indy." She cried, tears pricking at the corner of her lids.

"She can't come here, honey, she's a dog," I said, trying to hide my amusement. "She'll meet our McFlurry Monster soon."

"Why is this so damn painful?" She groaned, her head pushing back as I watched her, helpless, taking in a deep breath. "Don't leave my side."

"Never," I promised just as Dr. Carmen walked through the door. It was a whirlwind of events as Bella's feet were put in the stirrups. She told Dr. Carmen that she needed to push, and she needed to push now. Dr. Carmen instructed her what to do and I stood by her side, holding her hand as she demanded Bella to take a deep breath and then push with all her strength. Bella strained, a groan leaving her lips until she released, laying her back down on the bed as she let out a choking sob.

"Good job, Bella. Give me another, take a deep breath." Dr. Carmen instructed as Bella did as she was told. I held one knee, watching in astonishment as Bella pushed again, this time an agonizing cry leaving her lips that nearly crippled me. I turned to her just as Dr. Carmen told us she could see the head. I felt my heart race, and I quickly reached down to whisper to Bella, to tell her I loved her, that she was the strongest damn woman I have ever met and that she needed to keep pushing so we could meet our daughter. This seemed to fuel her, and when Dr. Carmen asked for another push, she did so with amazing force, holding it until a little cry filled the room.

Bella let go with another scream, and I watched as our child left her mother, taken by the nurses who set her on Bella's chest as she wiggled, her tiny fingers and toes stretching. I was in shock, at a standstill, as I watched Bella sob, helping clean off our daughter who had a full head of crimson hair, and a cry so loud that made everyone in the room laugh. She was so damn perfect, everything about her. I had loved her from the moment Bella told me she thought she was pregnant. But now, seeing her, it was so different, almost unexplainable. Tears were in my eyes when the nurses asked me to cut the umbilical cord but I did so with pride, watching them swaddle her up as she relaxed, her bright eyes staring up in wonderment at her mother who rocked her. I felt a sob leave me and I leaned down, kissing Bella's temple as we watched the miracle of our daughter, who looked back at us with the same amount of love.

 **April 2023**

I walked along the stone path, my fingers gripping at my jacket to pull it closer, protecting me from the wind that whipped through the air, sending the trees rustling. Besides that, it was quiet today, only a few other people walking out with me, some with families and flowers in their hands and others mourning in silence by themselves. I asked Edward to give me a head start to give me time to visit by myself, and of course, he was more than supportive. I went to turn the corner, but glanced back at the silver SUV, seeing him in the driver's seat, turned and staring at the brown-eyed little girl who was sure to be talking his ear off.

I smiled to myself, turning the corner and entering through the threshold of the opened black gate, my eyes swiveling right to the third row of headstones, finding his immediately. Shoving my hands into my coat, I stepped off the pathway and into the grass, my stomach twisting every time it did when I visited him or my mother in Phoenix. I stopped just a few steps ahead of the stone that was relatively clean, except for a few weeds with blue flowers that sprouted from the ground, covering just at the base.

 _In Loving Memory_

 _Charles 'Charlie' Dennis Swan_

 _February 11_ _th_ _, 1964_

 _April 17_ _th_ _, 2018_

"Hey, Dad." I began, swallowing hard. It didn't matter how many times I had visited, and I made sure to visit at least once a year, I still found the words catch in my throat, still felt the ache in my chest, as if being here in front of his headstone was the same as standing across from him, alive and well.

Through the years, the pain had become manageable. I thought of my parents every day, but I was no longer haunted by their death. It was difficult in the beginning, carrying the weight of witnessing both of your parents passing, but I found healing through those who were still here and who loved me. I no longer needed to be sad, no longer needed to guilt myself, not when I had other people relying on me to be strong. And knowing both my parents, if they could talk to me one last time, especially right at the beginning, they would have scolded me for putting my life on hold for them.

 _You got too much life left to waste any more on me. Go do something, go be something. Get your ass in gear and get started._

I felt a smile on my lips, hearing his voice in the back of my head from his letter I received shortly after he died. I didn't listen at first, but I was listening now.

"You'd be proud of me," I started, just above the wind. "I'm finally selling the house." It had been in my name and possession since he died, and for the years after, it sat there, empty and quiet. I ignored it but I was unwilling to part with it, selfishly wanting to keep it even if I wasn't in Forks. It wasn't until that day in August, almost three years ago, that I realized I now had a reason to let it go. When our daughter was born, Edward and I decided to sell so we could take the money we earned and put it towards a college fund. We spent two years renovating it, hiring locals when Edward couldn't be here to get it ready. Everything was updated, and when it was finally completed, it spent only a few short weeks on the market. In addition to visiting, we were here to close, finally passing it on to someone else.

"I haven't been there yet; I've only seen pictures. I think you would be rolling in this grave if you saw what we did. You'd absolutely hate how modern it is now." I laughed with a shrug, resting my chin in my palm. "But I think you'd forgive me. It's all for her … I have to look after her now." I stopped, bringing my hands down as I tapped my thumb along my knee. "I don't know if I told you this, but she has our brown eyes. And I swear, sometimes she looks at me and all I see is you. It's not all the time, but just facial expressions. And sometimes I see Mom. A lot of times, I see Edward. But it's those brown eyes. It's just you and me." I paused for a moment, letting the silence take over. "I went and saw Mom a few months ago. I know you weren't together in the end, but I hate that I can't visit you both at the same time."

If I had my way, they would both be in San Francisco, even if it made no sense. Just for the fact that I could go to them when I needed it. Because it wasn't possible, I made sure I went to Phoenix to visit Mom just as often as I saw Dad. It was also important to see Phil, who was still a part of my life. I made it a point for him to be a part of my daughter's, just as much as Carlisle and Esme. I felt the tears, clearing my throat as I held them down, looking over at a family who were a few rows ahead of me, holding each other as they placed a bouquet of roses at the top of the headstone.

"I didn't bring you flowers," I said slyly, reaching for my pocket as I pulled out a mini bottle of Jameson, just like I do every time I visit. "But I think you'll like this more." I twisted the cap, taking a quick swig before holding it just above his grave, tipping to allow it to pour until it was empty. I set the empty bottle at the base of the grave, leaning back on my heels before popping a mint in my mouth just as I reached out, my fingers tracing the words on the stone. "I miss you."

"Mommy!" I turned, seeing Edward walking through the gate, in his arms a wild of crimson curls and brown eyes squirming as she caught sight of me, her chubby fingers reaching out even though we were still far apart. Edward set her down as she ran across the path, nearly stumbling through the terrain, her boots crunching leaves as she reached me with a giggle. I wrapped her in my arms, attacking her cheeks with kisses as she laughed, gripping onto my face. I couldn't help but smile when she was around, even when her laughter was so loud. She was pure joy; I wouldn't change a thing about her.

But for the respect of those mourning, I placed my pointer finger to her pink, pouty lips. "We have to use our inside voice here, Charlie," I told her as her eyes widened, her finger coming up to mimic mine as her other hand held something orange and familiar.

 _Mr. Kitty_.

Charlotte Regan Cullen, otherwise known as Charlie, was a firecracker with nonstop energy. I knew we had our hands full the moment she started talking because once she started,

she didn't stop. Once she was on her feet, she was going anywhere she could. She was the perfect partner for Indy, who matched her energy, the two entertaining and wearing each other out. But under her loud and chaotic nature, she was so loving and soft. She had a fixation on animals and nature, she wanted to help and care for anything that needed it. Edward and I had bets on what she would do when she was older. His money on the health field. He wasn't wrong, but it wouldn't be with humans. I was sure she would be a vet. Her love of Indy and any animal she came in contact with was undeniable.

She was our firefly, our sparkler, our everything. We adored her so much.

I turned her in my arms, facing her towards the grave. She reached forward, her hands feeling the coolness of the stone as she looked back to me with a smile, the same one her father had. "Grandpa Charlie is here." It wasn't a question; she knew exactly where she was. I nodded, brushing curls from her face. She looked away and back at the grave, giggling as if someone had told her a joke. "Hi Grandpa, I'm almost three!" She started with her age and then began to ramble. She ran Mr. Kitty along the top of the stone as she told him about Indy, about her bedroom, her favorite food, and even a random fact about honeybees.

Edward knelt next to me, shaking his head with a smile. I looked at him and snorted. "She's _your_ daughter."

"She gets her rambling from you." He said pointedly, just before reaching over to press a kiss to the side of my head. I had felt his left hand on my knee, my eyes drawing immediately to his silver ring. _My husband_. "I see you left a gift for him." He nodded towards the empty, mini whiskey bottle.

"Thought he would appreciate that more than some flowers. Charlie wasn't a flower type of guy."

"I think you're right," Edward said, running his hand up to my thigh. "They are ready for us to sign the paperwork when you are." He finished as I nodded, staying silent, watching my daughter talk to my father. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I said with a nod, looking to him. "It just feels weird … letting go of it. It's like the last piece of him I have."

"You know that's not true." He told me, his gaze falling to our daughter. "I think we can take comfort knowing it's going to a growing family trying to create a life here in Forks. There is no reason we should hang on to it any longer. And think about what we will get out of it, a future for her."

"I know, I know," I told him, feeling as if I've heard this speech a thousand times. When I drifted, he pulled me right back down, showing me the bigger picture. I knew I was going to through with this because it wasn't just me anymore. I looked to Charlie, whose finger traced the lines in the headstone, right over her own name, just as I had done earlier. She continued to talk to him, this time about her favorite stuffed animals. We watched as she walked around the stone, picking at the ground, plucking a few tiny blue flowers, covering the top of the headstone along with anything else she found, including brown leaves and rocks. She continued to talk, as if he were right there next to her, helping her decorate. Charlie wasn't a flower type of guy, but I don't think he would have minded those.

"Mommy, do you like it?" She asked me, placing one more blue flower perfectly in the center. I reached for her, pulling her in my arms as I held my girl tight, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I love it, firefly. It's beautiful. The most beautiful display I have ever had the pleasure of seeing." I sighed, my tone dramatic to please her as she giggled, twirling around and into Edward, who gripped her tightly, pulling her up and into his arms as he stood. I watched them as they laughed together, their crimson hair glowing under the unusual Forks' sun.

I looked back to my father's grave, the smile still on my face as I gave him a final nod as if to indicate my goodbye. I stood, looking back to my little family, Edward holding Charlie in his arms as he held her out to me, giving me the perfect opportunity to tickle her belly as she squealed, her voice carrying as she pleaded for us to stop. I kissed her cheek as Edward turned, walking us back towards the car.

Indy waited patiently in the backseat, barking once she spotted us and showering Charlie with kisses when Edward buckled her into her seat. Charlie laughed, gently pushing her head away before sharing a few of the blue flowers she stole from the grass by my father's grave.

"Where are we going now?" She asked, curiously, handing a flower to Indy, who took it in her mouth, only to spit it out, causing an eruption of giggles from our little girl.

"We are going to see where your mom grew up," Edward said on the driver's side, his head turning to me as I felt a tightness in my chest. He reached over, grabbing my hand before bringing it up to his lips.

"Where Mommy slept when she was small like me?" She asked as I turned, looking at her. She kicked her feet, playing with the flowers on her lap, making a crown for Mr. Kitty just before her brown eyes caught mine. I nodded with a smile.

"It looks a little different, but yes. It's where I grew up with my mom and dad." I told her.

"Grandpa Charlie?" She asked, her tone thoughtful.

"Yes, Grandpa Charlie and Grandma Renee."

"I wish I could give them these." She said innocently, indicating to her flowers. I felt a lump in my throat just before feeling Edward's hand on my knee, squeezing. The tears were there, but I kept them locked in, reaching for her as I pulled a curl away from her eyes.

"Me too, firefly," I answered.

xx

Indy jumped from the car the moment the door opened, Charlie not far behind her until her father grabbed her by the waist, pulling her up and into his arms. She groaned dramatically, wanting nothing more than to run off and play. I hesitated at my door, seeing the house for the first time in years. Everything was the same on the outside except for a few details. It had a fresh new coat of paint, making it brighter, the door painted a deep navy that matched the shutters, and a welcome mat right at the front. I never made it back here after the first time I left, not seeing a reason too. Edward made all the trips when contractors needed us for the renovations. I only saw photos, keeping as much distance as I could.

But here I was, reunited almost five years later. I looked to Edward and Charlie, who watched me just before he threw something in my direction. I caught it mid-air, looking down to see it was the keys. He moved his head in the direction of the house and I let out a deep breath, nodding as I walked forward.

Indy met us at the front door just as the key clicked the lock, opening to the foyer as she bolted inside. Charlie wiggled in her dad's arms before he set her down, her wild curls running into my childhood home. I felt warmth in my hand, and I looked down to see Edward's hand in mine, my chin tilting up to witness his comforting smile.

"You got this." He said, his thumb stroking over my skin. We walked in together, my eyes trained instantly on everything that was different. If I didn't know I was indeed standing in my childhood home, I would have thought I was somewhere else. The hardwood was replaced, the paint a cream as opposed to a light brown, the stairs leading upstairs no longer carpeted, now stained with a new railing. I let go of Edward's hand and explored the empty living room. The fireplace was whitewashed with a wooden mantle above it. The kitchen had new cabinets, new floors, and granite countertops with new, stainless steel appliances, making it look sleek and modern.

Edward looked at me, hesitating, unsure of my reaction, as if he thought it was too much. It definitely had changed so much so that it was no longer the house I grew up in. And that brought a comfort to me that I wasn't prepared for. I was sure if I had walked in and saw everything the same, it would have been harder to let go. Now, it wasn't mine anymore.

"It's … beautiful." I told him, seeing him visibly relax. "The pictures don't do it justice. It's a whole new house."

"That was the point. Charlie kept it very … Outdated." He said with a smirk as I nodded in agreeance. "The upstairs is done, too, if you want to see it."

I contemplated on this, knowing that the last time I had saw Charlie was up in his room where he had died at my side, in his bed. I felt a tug at my coat, and I looked down to see my other Charlie, staring up at me with her big, brown eyes. "Come on, firefly. Let me show you where Mommy grew up."

I picked her up and showed her all the places I could, telling her stories of me when I was little. I kept some of them vague, sparing her the details of having to take care of myself when my parents were incapable of doing so. I wasn't always going to shield her from the truth, both Edward and I agreed to tell her whatever she wanted to know, including his own addiction. I made a promise that I wouldn't lie to her, not like I was lied to; that I would always be open and honest and would always tell her the truth. She deserved it.

When we made our way upstairs, we stopped at my old bedroom first. It was empty and painted white, hardwood floors instead of carpet. I showed her where my bed used to be, told her about my purple walls with flowers painted along the sides. I told her this is where I first got Mr. Kitty, to which she held onto him tighter, the brightest smile on her face. I shared stories of my small adventures when I was her age, the things I imagined when I was trying to entertain myself. She was ecstatic, her imaginative mind running a million miles a minute, almost tempting me into playing make-believe princesses, an old favorite of mine.

When we left the room, she darted in front of me, passing the bathroom and running into the last room on the left. My heart hammered when I neared, stopping just at the threshold as I watched her turn in the empty room, spinning circles with Mr. Kitty. She stopped, laughing as she tumbled over onto the floor as if she were dizzy.

"Was this Grandpa's room?" She asked, lolling her head over to me. I nodded and entered, biting back tears as she laid right where the bed had been, right where I was when I watched him die. But she was smiling under the sunshine that leaked through the window and onto the floor, holding Mr. Kitty over her head as she played. "I like it. Can we stay here?"

I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. "Our home is in San Francisco, firefly."

"I like the blue flowers, we don't have those." She said sadly, sitting up to look at me.

"We can plant some in the backyard when we get home," I said as her eyes lit up, standing from her spot as she ran to me, curls flying around her face. It took very little to make her happy.

"Promise?" She reached her tiny hand out, and I knew exactly what she was doing. The same thing Charlie did to me. I smiled and leaned down, wrapping my much larger pinky around hers.

"Promise," I swore, pulling her towards me as I attacked her face with kisses. She pressed her hands against my shoulders, but I didn't let her go easily. Soon enough, Indy came to investigate, jumping towards my arms as I tilted Charlie down, holding her by her waist as her upper body swung by my legs as Indy covered her in licks. When I brought her back up to me, Edward was at the door, watching us with a grin, the look of pure adoration in his eyes. She called for him, reaching out as he took her from me, holding her close to his chest.

"The relator will be here soon." He told me as Charlie snuggled into him, tucking under his chin with Mr. Kitty between them. "You ready?" He asked as I looked back to the room.

I remembered this house as something different, avoided it because I thought I wouldn't be able to take the pain again. The changes were undeniable, a welcoming factor to help me let it go. But when I looked at my husband and daughter, holding each other so close, I knew I had nothing binding me to this place. Not because it was different, but because I was.

I nodded my head and felt the weight lift off me. I walked to my little family, placing a kiss to Edward's lips and then, Charlie's forehead.

They were all I needed.

* * *

 _AN: The amount of relief I feel finally posting this is all consuming. I hope you enjoyed reading this epilogue as much as I throughly enjoyed writing it. These two have been through a lot of angst, it felt right to give them a proper send off._

 _Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed and reviewed this story. I know I always talk about how much I love you guys, but seriously, I can't get enough of you! I am so excited to hear what you think about this epilogue (all 24,000 words of it!)_

 _Shout out to Fran, who edited this monster for me. Thank you, Fran. This story would not be what it is without your help._

 _Obstacles was nominated for Top Ten Completed Fics for March 2020. Please visit twifanfictionrecs and vote! Voting can be done once a day and ends on 4/26!_

 _This is the final piece for these two. I am going to miss them so much. But, I have new projects coming that I am so excited for, so keep your eye out for it!_

 _Thank you for everything. Until next time._

 _ii_


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